#that's their thing! it's practically their love language!

[rafes-slut]

Whaaattt about You overheard rafe and his friend talking about the new girl in town so later that night when rafe is fucking you- you moan out one of his friends names on purpose?

Say His Name Again

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), dom/sub undertones, jealousy, possessiveness, rough sex, revenge, degradation, choking, hair pulling, orgasm denial, Rafe being toxic and unhinged, foul language, semi-public tension, possessive behavior, toxic relationship dynamics, manipulation, heavy angst, brief mention of infidelity rumors, over-the-top reaction, reader moaning another man’s name for revenge.

You knew what you heard.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Not really. But when Rafe was talking loud as hell with his friends out by the pool, practically yelling over the music and the laughter, your ears tuned in—especially when you heard her name.

Some new girl. Some random nobody you didn’t even know. Apparently, she was “fine as hell,” with “the kind of ass you just wanna bite” and “a mouth made for sin.”

You heard him say that. You heard Rafe say that.

And it fucking broke something in you.

You didn’t even remember what the excuse was you used to leave the party early, but you couldn’t stay and watch him act like he wasn’t already spoken for. Like he didn’t have you. Like he didn’t already get everything he needed and more from your mouth, your ass, your everything.

The rage brewed in your gut for hours.

By the time he stumbled into the house later that night, a little buzzed and definitely unaware of the storm you were about to unleash on him, you already had a plan.

Rafe thought he was going to walk in, get in your bed, and fuck you until you forgot every single thing he’d said earlier.

No. You were going to fuck him up first.

“Get on the bed.”

You didn’t wait for him to get settled. As soon as he closed the bedroom door, you turned on him, voice sharp and commanding, your eyes dark and unreadable.

Rafe blinked, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips, amused and already turned on by your tone.

“Oh? You missed me that bad, huh?”

You didn’t answer. Just stared at him, waiting.

Rafe stripped, slow at first, until he realized you weren’t playing games. His shirt hit the floor, then his jeans. You were already naked, sitting on the edge of the bed with your legs spread just enough to tease him, just enough to control him.

He groaned under his breath, cock already hardening at the sight of you.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, you know that?” he muttered as he crawled onto the bed, towering over you, hand gripping your thigh.

But you moved faster, flipping him onto his back, straddling him, grinding against his bare cock without letting him in.

Rafe’s hands shot to your hips, but you slapped them away.

“I said—I’m in charge tonight.”

Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise. Then excitement. Then…confusion.

He liked when you got like this—rough, demanding, mean. But this wasn’t just some fun little roleplay. You were pissed.

And you were going to make him feel it.

You rode him hard. Not with love. Not with passion. With rage. With purpose. You used him like he was nothing more than a toy under you, nails digging into his chest, hair wild around your face as you bounced on his cock like it was the last thing you’d ever do.

Rafe was loving it, moaning, cursing, gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

“Fuck, baby, just like that—shit—you’re so tight—you’re mine, you hear me?”

You didn’t respond.

Not with words.

Not until he was close.

Until Rafe was falling apart under you, eyes squeezed shut, hands now gripping your ass, slamming you down onto his cock harder, faster, desperate for release.

That’s when you leaned forward, lips brushing against his ear—and let it rip.

“Oh, fuck, Topper.”

Rafe’s eyes snapped open. His whole body stiffened.

“What the fuck—?”

You said it again, louder, moaning it like you meant it this time.

“Oh my god, Topper, right there—right fucking there.”

Everything stopped.

Rafe’s hands grabbed you, lifted you off of him like you were nothing, slammed you down onto your back.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His voice was low. Deadly. He loomed over you, chest heaving, his cock still rock hard, slick with your arousal, but his *eyes—*they were murderous.

You smiled sweetly, even as your heart pounded in your chest.

“You heard me,” you whispered, running your tongue over your bottom lip like you weren’t scared shitless. “Or are you too drunk to remember names tonight?”

Boom. You watched it hit him—the reason. The realization of what you’d heard earlier. And that rage in your chest? It had now transferred directly into his.

Rafe’s hand wrapped around your throat in an instant, not choking, just holding—just letting you feel the power he had over you.

“You think you’re fuckin’ funny?” His voice was low, shaking. “You think you can say his name while I’m inside you? You really wanna test me like that?”

You tilted your chin up, lips curling into a smirk.

“I just wanted to know how it feels to be disrespected, Rafe. Like I’m not even here. Like I’m not enough for you.”

He didn’t like that. Not one bit.

Rafe growled, hand tightening just enough to make you gasp, to make your thighs squeeze together. He saw it. He felt it.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat,” he hissed. “Such a jealous, needy, little slut. You think I want her? You think I’d let you ride my dick like that if I wanted anyone but you?”

He pulled back, standing at the edge of the bed.

“Get the fuck on your knees.”

You obeyed, trembling—not from fear. From anticipation. Because when Rafe got like this? You never knew how far he’d go.

He gripped your jaw, forcing your eyes up to meet his.

“You wanna play games? Say his name again, sweetheart. Say it one more fuckin’ time, and I’ll ruin you. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You stared up at him, mouth parted, breath heavy. Your hand moved to stroke his cock, slow and teasing.

“…Topper.”

Rafe grabbed you by the hair, yanking you up, bending you over the bed in one brutal movement.

“No mercy now, bitch.”

He slammed into you from behind, no buildup, no warning. Just rough, deep, punishing thrusts. The bed creaked under you, headboard slamming the wall with each savage movement.

You screamed—his name, this time. Over and over.

“Rafe—Rafe—I’m sorry—I’m sorry—”

But he wasn’t listening.

“You wanna be a little whore? You wanna moan another man’s name while I’m fuckin’ you? Let’s see if he can make you come like this.”

You cried out, legs shaking, body limp, unable to fight him even if you wanted to.

Rafe owned you now.

By the time he was done, you couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

You were wrecked.

And Rafe. He wasn’t satisfied yet.

His hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“Mine. Say it.”

You nodded weakly, voice broken.

“Yours.”

“Say his name again. Go on.”

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

He smirked.

“Didn’t think so.”

[illyrianshadow]

Lost in shadows (pt I)

Azriel x Reader

Hey lovelies. I have not written fanfiction in years but I’ve really been enjoying all the amazing stories on here and thought I’d join in the fun. Any feedback welcome.

Ps if you have any writing requests please let me know, I really want to get back into the swing of things so practice might help!

Pps English is not my first language

Summary: After centuries apart, you see him again — Azriel, the boy who once kept you safe in the shadows of Windhaven.

But now he's a stranger and you’re left wondering: does he remember? And is your connection, fated or forgotten, still strong enough to bring you together?

Warnings: none for now but future angst and potential smut in future chapters

Part 2

———————

Your eyes keep drifting to the Illyrian male a few tables away from you as you take small sips from your drink.

You’ve been watching him all night.

He‘s grown tall, his massive wings taking up most of the little booth he’s sitting in, but it’s undeniably him.

Azriel, Az, your “Azzie”.

He looks strong, intimidating, so different from the little boy you had once trusted more than anything in the world.

He didn’t notice you, or if he did, he hadn’t recognised you. You didn’t blame him.

You hadn’t seen each other in what must have been over 500 years. He should be nothing but a distant childhood memory, but you’d never been able to forget.

Not him.

He was 11 years old when you met, you’d only just turned 10 the week before.

Both of you were hiding in the forest around Windhaven. You from your father, he from the unaccepting and violent Illyrian males.

The forest had become a place you ran off to regularly when your father became violent. It drowned out the sounds of the camp and steadied your nerves.

You’d barely spotted him at first.

Azriel was surrounded by shadows that seemed to calm as soon as you stepped close. His tired eyes showed a slight hint of fear, but he had smiled at you reluctantly. His shadows seemed to whisper something to him, something that made you earn his trust.

You normally didn’t come close to any of the Illyrian boys your age but something about the lost looking boy in front of you drew you in. He seemed so different from the ones you’d grown up with.

You asked if you could join his hiding spot and he smiled at you reluctantly before moving over, making space for you to sit down beside him. His shadows immediately engulfed the both of you and the feeling of them made you giggle.

Against all of your instincts he made you feel safe. He steadied you the same way the forest did.

You became inseparable after that first meeting, sneaking out to your joined hiding place at every opportunity. Small laughs escaped your lips as you told each other jokes, and later, your deepest secrets.

You watched him grow in confidence, you were his biggest supporter when he learned how to fly and you beamed with pride when he told you stories about his newfound brothers.

He was your safety net, an escape from the brutal conditions of the camp and one of the only Illyrian males you’d ever trusted.

No one really knew about your friendship. It wasn’t safe. Your father would never approve of you hanging around with someone like Azriel. A bastard unworthy of being trained among what your father referred to as “pureblood Illyrian warriors”.

For 8 years he was your closest friend, your best kept secret. Leaving him behind was the hardest thing you ever had to do.

And now he was here.

[multifandomficsx]

Blame it on the Rain

Summary: Your dad is away on a week-long business trip leaving the house all to yourself. Only one problem, he’s asked his best friend to keep an eye on the house, which practically means having a babysitter at the ripe age of 21. This particular best friend has been one that you’ve harbored an attraction to for years, and now you’re finally old enough and alone enough to act on it. 

W.C: 6.2k

Content Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT (porn without much plot okay maybe a little plot), possessive!hotch if you squint, strong language, p in v sex (use a condom please for the love of god), thigh riding, bratty vibes from you also if you squint, no use of Y/N

MINORS DNI!!!!

You couldn’t understand for the life of you why your father had you under the careful surveillance of his best friend. You were grown, you could handle yourself, so why was Aaron here? Your father said something along the lines of, “He’s just here to check up on the house and make sure nothing burns down.”, which you know is code for, he doesn’t trust you. 

Whatever, it’s not like you were about to throw a major rager at your cozy suburban home. It was summer vacation from college, all of your friends lived in different states. But there you sat in the living room, cozied up on the couch watching some random rom-com that was on tv, a hot chocolate and popcorn bucket on the coffee table in front of you. 

The weather outside was horrendous. It had been storming all day with no signs of letting up. In fact, it appeared to only be getting worse. The sound of rain pelted the windows and the house creaked from the wind. Lightning cracked and streams of water flowed down the windows, blurring the world outside, so you didn’t notice the headlights pulling into your driveway.

And then you hear the lock on the front door jiggle, and in walks the man of your late night fantasies. You’ve had your eyes on Aaron since the day he walked into your home. You remember the day so clearly. 

It was a hot summer day in August, you had just turned 18 and your dad decided to throw a backyard barbecue, you know, typical dad behavior. The sun was relentless, the kind of summer day that sticks to your skin, wishing for the slightest breeze. But nothing - nothing is more distracting than the man that just walked through the gate to your backyard. The first thing you noticed was how tight his button up was. The way it hugged his broad chest and shoulders, his biceps seemed to want to bust out of the rolled up sleeves. The top two buttons undone so his chest hair peeked out over the sharp line of his collarbone. A stark contrast to how you would eventually see him, stuffy suit and tie over for a late night drink with your dad. 

The heat had started to get to everyone outside, Aaron was no exception, though he would never show any signs he was uncomfortable. Remembering the way you, him and your dad stood at the grill watching the food sizzle on the hot iron. The way a bead of sweat traveled down the side of Aaron’s face. The way he lifted his arm to wipe away the sweat. The way his shirt traveled up so slowly and you couldn’t help but peek at the exposed, minorly tanned skin on his hip and the lines that disappeared into the dark wash jeans he happened to be wearing. 

Ever since that day you couldn’t get enough of seeing him, you lit up everytime dad mentioned that he would be coming over and made an effort to make sure you were hanging around the house that night. 

You had thought it was a one sided schoolgirl crush you would eventually get over but you couldn’t miss the quick stolen glances and his efforts to hide them. The tight jaw and clench of his fingers on his drink when you would “accidentally” touch his arm and laugh at something that definitely wasn’t as funny as you made it out to be. 

So when he walked in this night it was a problem. It didn’t help that he was soaked from the rain, water dripping from his dark hair, his shirt clinging to every inch of his sculpted chest and shoulders. 

You freeze, your breath hitched as he walks inside, the storm still raging behind him as he turns to close the door and lock it. His shoulders rise and fall in sharp, measured breaths, clearly he jogged in here from the car. The sharp cut of his cheekbones even more defined in the only light emitted from the tv. Strands of wet hair clung to his forehead, beads of rainwater trailing down his face, catching in the hollow of his throat before disappearing under the button down.

And god  that shirt, completely useless, his body barely concealed under the now transparent white cotton. You watch, transfixed, as he runs a hand through his hand, scattering droplets across the floor, down his forearm, over the veins that standout from the skin. 

He exhales sharply, shaking off the cold and finally makes eye contact with you. You feel it everywhere, the dark, smoldering heat, the long unspoken tension that simmers between you waiting to ignite.

 His gaze lingers for a moment, seeing the way you were dressed. A tight cami, no bra and little shorts that barely covered anything. Your legs tucked to the side of you. You do nothing but sit still as his eyes flicker over you before returning to your own. 

“It’s really coming down out there.” He mutters, voice low.

You swallow dryly, averting your eyes back to the tv, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at Aaron. You couldn’t give yourself away fully, even though you were well aware of the fact that you were practically eye fucking him in your doorway. 

“ I’ll be right back.” He said before disappearing down the hallway, no doubt to the bathroom. 

This was not good. He shouldn’t be here, not like this, not when the barrier normally between the two of you was away for work. You knew he would show up eventually, but you were hoping for a day with decent weather so you could escape the house if need be. Your mind flooded with scenarios to get him to leave, but none of them seemed feasible. Before you could actually think something up, he walks around the corner in a new pair of clothes, hair towel dried and messy. 

“You know, you don’t need to be here. I can take care of the house.” You say turning your body around to face Aaron, forearms up on the back of the couch. You lay your cheek on your right arm and watched as he made his way into the kitchen.

“Your dad asked me for a favor. Plus it’s nasty outside.” He paused, thinking for a moment, “ Let’s cut a deal.” 

This made your stomach flip, the possibility of the offer he’s about to make got you excited. He shuffled through the wine cabinet and picked out a red. The way his biceps tensed as he screwed the cork out of the narrow bottle top made your lips part ever so slightly. 

As he spoke he grabbed two glasses, “I stay for the night. Just tonight, I let your dad know everything is fine, and you won’t see me again after that.” 

You studied the way his fingers gripped the dark green bottle as he poured what is obviously a drink for the both of you. While this seemed like a good deal, a part of you was upset that you wouldn’t be getting to see Aaron throughout the week. You pretended to think about it, putting on a show of tapping your finger on your cheek and scrunching up your face. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” You smirked and shifted so you were sitting on your knees to face him. 

The living room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the kitchen light that was left on by Aaron casting shadows across the walls. The storm outside has settled into a steady rhythm, raindrops tapping against the windows like a quiet metronome. 

You stretch lazily on the couch, legs outstretched, a pout on your lips as he hands you your glass of wine. Aaron settled into the far end of the couch, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone, looking far too serious for someone who’s supposed to be relaxing.

"You know," you begin, tilting your head with a playful smirk, "I really don’t need a babysitter."  

Aaron exhales, something between a sigh and the hint of a chuckle. God his laugh was music to your ears. And you wanted to do anything to draw out more. Before taking a sip of his own drink. "I’m not babysitting."  

"You are," you tease, drawing out the words as you lean forward slightly. "My dad asked you to stay, just to keep an eye on me. That’s textbook babysitting, Aaron."  

His gaze flicks to you, dark and unreadable, but there’s a trace of amusement there. "You’re twenty-one," he points out, as if that makes a difference. In his eyes it does.

"Exactly." You raise your glass in mock celebration. "Perfectly capable of being home alone without adult supervision."  

He hums in response, setting his glass down on the table beside him. "Then I suppose I’m just here for the company."  

You grin, leaning back against the cushions. "That I don’t mind."  

His lips twitch, just slightly, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze lingers, something unutterable flickering beneath his carefully composed expression.  

The air shifts, the playful energy between you suddenly carrying something else beneath it. Something neither of you are willing to name just yet.  

You take another sip of your wine, holding his gaze. "If you’re staying, at least make yourself comfortable. I won’t report you to my dad for unprofessionalism if you actually relax for once."  

Hotch exhales, shaking his head, but this time, there’s definitely a smirk. "I’ll take that under advisement."

“Good.” You decide to start pushing boundaries, if he’s going to stay, you might as well have fun. "I bet you hate this, don’t you? Being stuck here instead of doing… whatever it is you do for fun."  

Hotch raises a brow, and something about the slow, deliberate way he regards you sends a flicker of heat down your spine. "And what exactly do you think I do for fun?"  

You hum, tapping a finger against your glass. "Let’s see… paperwork? Running background checks? Oh! I bet you go home and unwind with a nice, thick case file."  

This time, he actually huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. " Incredibly inaccurate."  

"Oh?" You lean forward slightly, your grin teasing. "So what do you do to unwind, Agent Hotchner?"  

His gaze turns to your legs for only a moment before moving to your eyes, like he caught himself slipping. He takes another sip of his drink before answering.  

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"  

Your stomach flips at the quiet rasp of his voice, the weight of his words hanging between you, heavier than before. Your teasing falters for just a second—long enough for something else to settle in the space between you. Something warmer, something charged.  

The air shifts, a current running beneath the conversation, unspoken but felt.  

You bite your lip, watching him over the rim of your glass. "Maybe I would"  

His jaw tics, his fingers flexing against his knee, but he doesn’t look away.  

And just like that, the game changes.

The air is thick with something neither of you are willing to name, but it’s there. It hums between you, sparking in the space where teasing had once been, shifting into something slower, heavier.  

Aaron doesn’t move, doesn’t break eye contact, but you see the way his fingers tighten just slightly around the glass in his hand, the way his lips tighten into a thin line as if he’s considering what to say next.  

You take another sip of wine, keeping your gaze steady, your lips curving into something just shy of a smirk. "Cat got your tongue, Aaron?"  

His exhale is slow, measured and his gaze sharpens. "You’re playing a dangerous game."  

Your stomach twists, heat curling low in your spine at the way his voice dips, quiet but firm. A warning. An invitation. Both.

"Am I?" you muse, tilting your head, studying him the way he’s been studying you.  

His eyes shift to your mouth for half a second—so fast you might’ve missed it if you weren’t watching him so closely.  

You set your glass on the coffee table, your movements slow, deliberate. "You don’t have to stay, you know," you say lightly, watching for his reaction. "I’ll be fine on my own. You can go back to whatever it is you’d rather be doing."  

For a moment, he just looks at you. Then, without breaking eye contact, he leans forward, placing his own glass beside yours.  

His voice is lower when he speaks. Steady. Certain. 

"I don’t think I will."  

Your breath catches.  

You hadn’t expected that.  

You had expected him to deflect, to brush off your teasing with another exasperated sigh, to remind you—yet again—that he was only here because of your father.  

But instead, he stays. Instead, he watches you with a gaze that lingers, that burns, that tells you he’s thought about crossing this line just as much as you have.  

Your heart pounds against your ribs, but you don’t back down.

Neither does he.  

You’re both still playing.

I don’t think I will.  

Your pulse thrums, Aaron’s unwavering gaze hot on your skin, but before you can say anything, before you can test the boundaries of whatever is crackling between you—  

The lights falter.  

For half a second, everything wavers. The lamp beside you dims, then flares, then—  

Darkness.

The storm outside howls against the house, rain hammering against the windows, wind rattling through the trees. The sudden loss of power leaves the room bathed in shadows, nothing but the faint glow of the storm outside casting fractured light into the space.  

Your breath stutters in the unexpected silence, the hum of electricity gone, the air around you somehow even heavier than before.  

You feel, more than see, the shift of his presence as he stands, his body a shadowed silhouette against the storm-lit windows. There’s no hesitation in his movements, just quiet, controlled awareness as he checks the space around you, listening to the world outside.  

It’s instinctual, the way he moves. The way he protects and instantly hovers over you. 

You pull in a slow breath, trying to steady your heart as you push up from the couch. "Well," you say lightly, but your voice comes out softer than you intend. "That’s one way to kill the mood."  

You can’t quite see his expression, but you feel the way his attention shifts back to you, the weight of it lingering even in the darkness. "Are you all right?" He places his hands on your shoulders. It’s not lost on you the way his hands blanket your shoulders, imposing in a way.

Your lips curve, even as a shiver runs down your spine. "Are you?"  

He exhales softly, and you think—just maybe—that it’s a quiet huff of amusement.  

But the energy between you hasn’t faded. Not entirely. If anything, the darkness amplifies it, makes you hyper-aware of the way your bodies are so close, the way his presence fills the space, steady and unwavering.  The way you can feel his body heat and the clean woodsy cologne flooding your senses makes you dizzy. 

“I’m not the one who’s house just lost power. Should have expected that.” He says, his hands slowly making their way down your arms. 

A shiver rolls down your spine, must be the wine. “Just wasn’t expecting to be stuck in the dark with you, Mr. Hotchner.” The last part of that sentence came out more breathlessly than you anticipated. 

There’s a shift in him, you couldn’t see it, eyes still adjusting to the dark, but you could feel it. His voice, lower this time, as if he was going to get caught, “You’re a big girl, you think you can handle it?”

You shouldn’t be reacting to him like this. He’s older, way older. He’s just here to make you feel safe. And yet- 

“Guess I’ll find out.” You say softly, placing your hands on his chest, lifting your chin up to look at him.

Lightning flashes, illuminating the man in front of you. The quick second of light reveals everything. The need written on both of your faces, but still a hesitation.

And in the dark, you wait. You both wait. He doesn’t move, not at first, like he’s giving you a choice. An out to back away and realize this is a bad idea. 

When you stand your ground, he finally moves, his hand leaving your arm, up to your chin, stretching over your cheek, resting on your jaw. You lean into the warmth of his palm on your face and he exhales like he’s losing a battle with himself. You pull him closer, balling your fists into his shirt, no doubt wrinkling it. 

Your breaths mingle in the darkness and your noses graze each other. His tone was rough, barely above a murmur, “We shouldn’t.”

Your heart is still racing. “I know.” Your voice, soft and begging.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” His voice isn’t a warning anymore, it's a promise.

“Yes I do” 

And then, Aaron breaks. 

He moves fast, his hand going from resting on your face to gripping your jaw. And his mouth is on yours. Hot. Desperate. Starved in a way that makes your knees falter. 

He kisses you like he’s been holding back for far too long. Like you’re something he shouldn’t want but cant help himself from taking. 

His hand slips from your arm to your hip, pulling you flush against his body. The firm press of his chest against you makes your head spin. 

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his hand tightening on the flesh of your hip like he wanted to memorize every feeling of you. 

Just as quickly as it started, he pulled away, his forehead resting on yours. 

“This is a bad idea,” he rasps, with no intention of following through with trying to convince you to stop.

A breathless laugh escapes you, “Terrible idea.” 

You don’t let the moment apart linger. 

You grab the front of his shirt, yanking him back toward you, crashing your lips against his in a kiss that’s all heat, all hunger, all the tension that’s been simmering between you finally snapping like a live wire.  

He groans into your mouth, and it’s the only warning you get before his hand moves from your hip to your ass, strong and commanding, somehow pulling you closer. There’s no hesitation this time, no restraint—just raw, unfiltered need.  

You barely register moving before the back of your calves hits the couch. In a practiced motion, he flips the two of you and sits on the couch, bringing you down with him, onto his lap. His hands slide beneath your shirt, palms rough, warm, everywhere, mapping out every inch of you.

"Tell me to stop," he rasps against your lips, but you can feel the way his body reacts to you, the way he’s barely holding himself together.  

You arch into him, rolling your hips, pressing against the heat of him, and he curses, his grip tightening on your hips as he grinds back up against you. The sensation sends a full-body shiver through you, your head tilting back as a breathless moan escapes before you can stop it.  

"Don’t stop," you whimper  

That’s all it takes for whatever last shred of restraint he had to fully disappear. 

His mouth is on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw, kissing, nipping, devouring as his hips roll into yours, slow and calculating, making you feel everything. The pressure, the friction—it’s overwhelming, making your fingers claw at his back, desperate for more.  

"Fuck," he grits out, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he ruts against you, the muscles in his back flexing beneath your hands. He’s unraveling just as much as you are, lost in the feeling.  

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, his teeth grazing your skin in retaliation. His breath is ragged, his movements bordering on desperate now, like he’s been deprived of this for centuries.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown, lips kiss-swollen. "You have no idea what you do to me," he murmurs, his voice wrecked.  

You smirk, tilting your hips up to meet his. "I think I do."  

He growls low in his throat, crushing his mouth back to yours, his hands gripping you like he never wants to let go. 

Aaron grabs your shirt, fingers curling around the fabric before he tugs it upward. You lift your arms without hesitation, letting him lift it off and toss it somewhere on the floor, his eyes hungry as they rake over your newly exposed skin. 

"You’re so pretty baby" he mutters under his breath, his hands immediately returning to you—hot, rough palms skimming up your sides, over your ribs, his thumbs brushing the curve of your exposed breasts.  

Your breath stutters, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you. His mouth finds your neck again, lips hot and open-mouthed, sucking, biting, marking you as his hands slide lower—down your stomach, over your hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts.  

A soft sigh escapes your lips, the deliberate way his fingertips tease the skin beneath them, but before he can go any further, you grab the hem of his shirt, tugging at it impatiently. "Off," you demand breathlessly.  

He obeys without question, making quick work of the buttons and tossing it aside before pressing his body back against yours. The heat of his skin, the solid weight of him against you—it sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your stomach.  

Your hands roam over the broad planes of his back, the sharp lines of his shoulders, down to his soft yet still firm abdomen, where he flexes beneath your touch.  

He growls low in his throat, pressing his hips harder against yours, and you gasp at the feeling of him — hard, thick, needing — through the fabric of his pants.  “Fuck, Aaron.” His name falling sweetly from your lips.

"Jesus Christ," he grits out, rolling his hips against you again, slow and deliberate, making you feel everything. His hands hold tightly to the flesh of your ass as he guides your heat against his own desire. 

He groans, his hands moving fast—pushing your shorts down, until there’s nothing left but your heat and skin and desperation against his slacks. 

“ I want you to ride my thigh.” 

Your mouth hangs open and a blush spreads across your cheeks, embarrassed at the request. Unsure of how to proceed, your hips slowed to a stop. The feeling of your clit against the fabric of his pants was undeniably good. You begin to stutter, unable to form an intelligent sentence. 

“Shh. It’s okay, pretty girl. I’ll help you.” His hands which haven’t left your body begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. 

The first roll of your hips, you dropped your head to the crook for his shoulder with a whimper. His head leaned into yours, getting an eyeful of the wet patch you had started to leave on his slacks.

“That feels good right? You’re doing so good for me.” He whispers in your ear and slowly eases up on guiding you physically, letting you find your own pace.

He was letting you take what you needed, but you knew in an instant he could take over if he wanted to. As you grinded into him, his hands slid up your sides to your waist. Another whimper, louder this time, left your lips before you could stop it. You swear you could feel him smirk against your ear.

“Keep going,” he said, a quiet command, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “Use me.” 

Your movements quicken, chasing the friction, your dripping core over the thick muscle of his thigh and the sharp press of your clit at just the right spot makes your body jolt back. Pleasure you’ve never known sends a flood of arousal to every zone of your body. Your head rolls back and eyes flutter shut.

One of Aaron's hands came up to where your throat meets your collarbone, gently resting there, a silent reminder of who is in control.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” You barely muster a look at him before losing your composure. He shifts his thigh just right, the friction making your breath stutter and your eyes squeeze shut again. 

“Look. At. Me.” The hand that's on your neck travels to your jaw to force you to face him. Your eyes open, jaw tight, keeping your sounds to yourself. “That’s better. Show me how much you’ve wanted this.”

“Aaron… please,” You moan out, picking up your pace, body shaking. You’re close and both of you know it. His hand leaves your jaw and tangles in your hair. 

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” He asks, his grip on your hip slowing you to a stop, making you whine in frustration. “Beg for it.” 

Your breath comes out in ragged gasps, hands clutching at his shoulders as he holds you still, just when you were about to tip over the edge.  

"Aaron," you whisper, but he just tilts his head, watching you squirm in his grip.  

"That's not begging," he murmurs, his thumb brushing dangerously slow over your thigh, trailing just close enough to make you ache for more. “You had so much to say earlier. Cat got your tongue?" He teased, repeating what you had said less than 30 minutes ago. 

You shift in his lap, trying to move, but his hands are unyielding. The hand in your hair moves quickly back to your hip, both hands gripping tight enough to bruise.

"Aaron, please," you try, swallowing thickly, unable to get your words out. 

"You're going to have to do better than that," he whispers, his thigh flexing just enough to make you moan. "Or maybe I’ll just keep you like this — needy, wet, and begging for me. Maybe you don’t deserve to come yet."  

Your eyes flash to his, wide and desperate, and his smirk softens for a brief second — but there's still that dangerous glint in his gaze.  

"Say it," he commands, lips brushing yours but refusing to close the distance. "Tell me how much you want to come for me. How much you need me to let you fall apart."  

You suck in a breath, cheeks flushed, as your hands slide down to his chest. "Please, Aaron… I need it. Need you to let me come. I want to fall apart for you. Please."  

That’s when his smirk shifts into something darker, more possessive — and without another word, he guides your hips down hard against his thigh, rolling it up into you.  

"That's my girl," he growls, watching you unravel under his hands. "Come for me. Now."  

You break with a moan, body trembling as he holds you through it, his hands steady, possessive, controlling every second of your release.  

When you collapse against him, spent and breathless, he finally lets you rest, his fingers stroking your spine in slow, calming circles.  

Your body is still trembling when his hand slides up your back, steady and warm — grounding you after everything he just pulled from you.  

"Shh," he soothes, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "You did so well for me."  

His hands never stop touching you — stroking, gripping, like he needs the contact as much as you do. But when you shift to climb off his thigh, thinking maybe he’ll let you rest, his fingers tighten just enough to keep you right where you are.  

"Did I say we were finished?" he murmurs, voice low and sharp like a blade wrapped in silk.  

Your breath hitches as he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.  

"No," you whisper, cheeks flushed, heart racing.  

Without breaking eye contact, he shifts beneath you, his hand undoing the latches on his belt, like he isn't already wrecking you with just his presence.  

"I've let you have your fun," he says, voice calm but filled with heat, "but now it's my turn."  

Before you can react, he lifts you off his thigh, standing in one fluid motion and carrying you easily to the nearest surface — the kitchen counter. He sets you down, stepping between your legs, hands running up your thighs as he leans in.  You gasp from the sudden cold surface beneath you.

His mouth finally crashes into yours, rough and hungry, tongue sweeping in to take what he’s been holding back.

"You’re mine tonight," he growls against your mouth. "And you’re going to get everything you’ve asked for."  

As he kisses down your jaw, his fingers slip between your legs again, teasing you — already knowing you're still sensitive from what just happened. You gasp, hips bucking.  

"Sensitive already?" he teases, nipping at your neck. " Good. I want you shaking for me by the time I’m done."  

His hand tightens in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. A loud moan rips from your throat and you jolt as his thumb finds your clit. Rubbing slow deliberate circles, his other fingers run through your slick folds. 

“I need you.” You whisper, leaning forward grasping on to him for dear life, “I need you inside.”  

And that’s all he needed to plunge both fingers inside of you. You suck in a breath getting settled into the sudden intrusion. Pumping slow, his eyes watched as his fingers disappeared inside of you and reappearing covered in your cream. Aaron emits a low moan at the sight, “ You’re so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? Wanted daddy’s best friend to ruin you?” 

You nod, breathless, “Yes, god yes.” 

Without another word, he makes quick work of the slacks he’s managed to keep on, the sound of them hitting the floor loud in the quiet room. The briefs follow and he pulls himself free, thick and hard. He lets go of your hair and his free hand strokes at his cock, his thumb smearing precum over the head.  

Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight, you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around his cock, have him make you cry as he fucks your mouth. But it seems that would have to wait. 

Aaron lines himself up with your folds, rubbing the tip in between them, teasing your entrance as his hands grip your thighs, holding you open for him. 

“Tell me what you want.” Eyes on you, waiting for permission. 

“ Fuck me. Please fuck me, Aaron.” 

With a low growl, he thrusts into you in one deep, hard motion, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch burns in the best way, stealing the air from your lungs as you cry out, your hands scrambling for purchase on his shoulders.  

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, hips already snapping forward, pounding into you like a man starved. “You feel even better than I dreamed about.”  

His fingers dig into your hips, holding you still as he fucks you hard and deep, but you don’t care — you want it to hurt, want to feel him for days.  

“Aaron—” you whimper, nails raking down his back, “harder, please—”  

He grits his teeth, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes.  Lightning strikes outside and for a moment you can see everything, the sweat beading on his forehead, his bicep flexed to hold you in place, and the deep possession buried deep behind his eyes.

“You want it harder, baby? You want me to fuck you so good you’ll be dripping down your thighs whenever I come over?”  

“Yes—”  

That’s all he needs.  

He slams into you harder, each thrust hitting deep, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer. His muscles tense, pulling you back in with each thrust, leaving no room for hesitation, setting an almost punishing rhythm if it didn’t feel so goddamn good. 

“You’re mine now,” he growls, voice thick and possessive, his mouth finding yours in a bruising kiss. “You understand me? Mine. No one else will ever touch you like this.”  

You moan into his mouth, clinging to him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure, knowing there’s no going back now.  

“Say it,” he demands, thrusting deeper. “Tell me who you belong to.”  

“You,” you gasp, head falling back, eyes glazed with lust. “I’m yours, Aaron—only yours.”  

His mouth crashes onto yours again, swallowing your moans as he fucks you right there on the kitchen counter, like he’s claiming every inch of you, like he wants to make sure you’ll never forget the way he feels inside you.  

“Fuck, baby,” Hotch groans against your neck, thrusts growing rougher, deeper, more desperate. His fingers dig into your hips like he’s trying to own you, like if he holds tight enough, you’ll never leave.  

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen, filthy and loud, mixing with your whimpers and gasps as he drives into you over and over.  

“You feel so good,” he pants, voice raw and low in your ear. “So fucking tight—been dreaming about this. About ruining you.”  

His hand slides between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and circling it fast and rough, determined to drag you over the edge before he loses it.  

“Come on, sweetheart,” he growls, thrusting harder, deeper. “Want you to come all over my cock. Want to feel you when I fill you up.”  

The filthy promise, that possessive growl, him—it’s all too much.  

You cry out, breaking apart around him, body clenching tight as you come hard, shaking and breathless. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, watching your body unravel for him, and then he’s slamming into you a few more brutal, deep thrusts before he buries himself to the hilt and lets go.  

His head drops to your shoulder, panting harshly as he fills you, hot and deep, holding you tight like he never wants to let go.  

For a long moment, neither of you moves. His chest heaves against yours, heart pounding. Your fingers tangle weakly in his hair as you catch your breath, still trembling from how hard he made you come.  

But then reality starts to creep back in.  

Hotch’s hands soften on your thighs, but he doesn’t pull away. Just stays there, still buried inside you, like if he doesn’t move, the rest of the world won’t catch up.  

“Shit,” he mutters after a moment, lifting his head to look at you, eyes searching your face, something softer now under the intensity. “We shouldn’t have—”  

You flinch, and his jaw tenses immediately when he sees it, cupping your cheek gently.  

“Hey,” he says quietly, fingers brushing your skin, “I didn’t mean it like that.”  

You swallow, still breathless. “Then how did you mean it?”  

He lets out a shaky breath, leaning his forehead against yours. “I meant… I don’t regret this. I regret that I’m gonna have to look your dad in the eye knowing I just fucked his daughter on his kitchen counter.”  

Your lips twitch in a small smirk. “You didn’t just fuck me.”  

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “ You’re right,” His thumb brushes over your lip, eyes serious now.  “ I don’t think I can give this up.”  

The weight of his words makes your stomach twist, but in the best way.  

“Then don’t,” you whisper.   

“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You want that?”  

You nod, breath catching as you whisper, “I’ve always wanted this.”  

Hotch groans softly, kissing you slower this time, like he’s savoring it. Like it’s more than just lust, even though you know it’s not

When he finally pulls back, he presses one last kiss to your forehead before glancing down at the absolute mess between your thighs, still inside you.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” He says, finally pulling out of you. You whine at the feeling of being empty. 

He laughs at the neediness of your vocalization. “ Round two is always on the table. We have all week.”

“What happened to the deal?” You asked slyly, back to teasing even though, the man of your midnight dreams just fucked you senseless.

“I never intended on keeping it.”

[lxvebun]

If you ever write caleb dating headcnaons but Highschool or college au I will hand you my life on a silver platter

Nonnie >:) I am humbly awaiting your delivery🫴

Caleb x gender neutral reader. Reader is not mc. Yearning, lovesick Caleb<33 fluff! Brainrot format. English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes<3

Masterlist

Golden boy!Caleb who seemingly has his entire academic life together. Good grades, popularity, some not-so-subtle favoritism from his teachers, colleges just lining up to take him-

Golden boy!Caleb who, despite having it all, still feels like he's lacking something. Sure, he's proud of his achievements, his grades and, yes, popularity isn't a bad thing but these things come rather naturally to him. Every day is starting feel mundanely the same.

Golden boy!Caleb Who's normal routine is pleasantly interrupted when the teacher informs him that he has been assigned to guide a new student around the school, and he should wait in the main hall for them.

Golden boy!Caleb who thinks you're the prettiest being he has ever seen. "Hello's" drying out in his throat and heart picking up in pace as you begin to walk towards him.

Golden boy! Caleb who feels something click into place as you lace your hand into his and introduce yourself. Feels the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach, melts a little as he feels the warmth of your skin still lingering on his palm after you pull away.

Golden boy!Caleb who realizes you're what he has been missing all this time.

Golden boy! Caleb who stutters out his own name through nervous smiles. Caleb who feels something warm curl in the back of his mind when you smile with him.

Golden boy!Caleb who's quick to let you in on all the schools secrets. The best study spots. Which floor to hide on when you need a break, how to get away with forgetting to turn your library book in on time, and of course, the best places to eat your lunch in peace. (Doesn't mention that he eats his lunch there as well)

Golden boy!Caleb who takes advantage his teacher's favoritism and asks them to assign him as your desk mate for the rest semester. "Just to keep an eye on the newbie, of course🙂‍↕️"

Golden boy!Caleb who usually didn't care about what other people thought of him, now finds himself putting in a lot of effort to get you to warm up to him quickly. Wether it's sharing notes, lunch breaks, even answers to a test! he's at your beck and call.

Golden boy!Caleb who is horrendously flirty with you, but you just see this as him being nice </3

It's just Caleb being friendly when he practically forces you to give him your bag to carry, slinging it over his shoulder with zero strain despite the heavy books.

It's just Caleb being friendly when he shares his lunch with you when you forget yours, even going as far as buying you a new lunch despite your protests because "lovely things like you should eat well"😵‍💫

It's just sweet, friendly Caleb that uses his Evol to get those pesky books off of ridiculously high library shelves during your study sessions.

Golden boy!Caleb who sometimes feels like tearing his hair out at your obliviousness

Golden Boy!Caleb who thinks you're actually just messing with him on purpose now when you show up to school wearing one of his hoodies—the one he forgot after your last study session. He can practically feel his heart trying to splinter through his ribcage to reach yours.

Golden boy!Caleb who tells you to keep the hoodie on for the rest of the day because its cold. Thats the only reason...nothing else....

Golden boy!Caleb who wears that hoodie to bed that night, delirious off of your perfume. Caleb, who replays the way the sunlight kissed your skin golden through the schools windows, replays the sound of your laugh as he finally got you to crack at one of his jokes over and over again, before he drifts to sleep. His dreams undoubtedly about you.

[myrleius]

the side hustle — kozume k.

kozume k. x fujoshi fem!reader│word count: 1.2k

synopsis: Kenma finds himself supplying BL intel to his hopelessly addicted girlfriend.

notes: Had a 3 AM flashback to my high school days when my guy friends kept feeding my BL delusions just to see me lose my mind. And thus, this fic was born. Please don’t take it too seriously. Just my sleep-deprived brain doing its thing.

cw/tags: crack, fluff, established relationship

Kenma wasn’t sure when his life had turned into this.

One minute, he was living peacefully—gaming, volleyball, minding his own business. The next? He had a girlfriend. A loud, affectionate, chaotic girlfriend.

For all their differences, they just fit. Yn was all bright eyes and boundless energy, always ready with a new obsession, a wild theory, a reason to make the world more exciting than it was. Kenma was quieter, content to observe rather than chase. But with her, watching wasn’t enough. She made things feel worth engaging in.

She never dragged him along—just opened the door, left it unlocked, and smiled when he eventually wandered in. She could fill a room without suffocating it, knew when to push and when to leave things be. And even in her loudest moments, she never felt too much. Kenma didn’t think he needed that. Until he did.

But there was one tiny downside.

She was a massive BL fan.

Not just casual, oh-this-is-cute levels of obsession. No, Yn was the type to pause mid-conversation just to gasp at two guys standing within five feet of each other. The kind to turn a simple, innocent interaction into a star-crossed love story before he even had time to blink.

And somehow, he’d been roped into the madness, officially serving as her dealer, slipping her BL intel on the volleyball team while she, a hopeless addict, kept coming back for more.

He honestly didn’t get it. What was so special about imagining people who weren’t dating… dating? But then she would just light up at the smallest details, gasping dramatically like she had just uncovered a hidden treasure.

Yeah. That was probably the reason he went along with it.

Which is why, even though this was objectively ridiculous, he still let her in when she came over, already knowing what she was about to ask.

The door to his room slammed open.

Kenma barely flinched. Without looking up from his Switch, he deadpanned, “You’re late.”

Yn practically bounced at the sight of him, her eyes already gleaming with barely-contained excitement. “Were there any important developments?!”

Kenma sighed, saving his game before setting the console aside. “Close the door first.”

She kicked it shut behind her and hurried over, plopping down cross-legged on the floor. Elbows propped on his bed, hands clasped under her chin, she leaned in expectantly. “Report.”

“Lev got hit in the face with a volleyball today.”

Yn nodded sagely. “Classic.”

“Yaku patched him up while cursing him out. Lev said, ‘Wow, you’re so gentle, Senpai.’” Kenma kept his voice as flat as ever, knowing full well she was already eating this up. “Yaku kicked him.”

She squealed, grabbing his arm and shaking him. “That’s so cute!”

Kenma gave her a pointed look. “It’s assault.”

“But it’s their love language.”

He propped his elbow on his knee, using his hand to hide the smirk twitching at his lips. “Right.”

Yn’s eyes sparkled, no doubt already conjuring up an entire romantic subplot in her head. She clutched his sleeve, gaze full of manic determination. “Did he say anything else?”

Kenma pretended to think, dragging it out for maximum effect.

After a long pause, he finally said, “Lev thanked him. Then Yaku just grunted and told him to shut up.”

Yn gasped, eyes widening before slamming her hands onto the bed. “They’re definitely in love!”

Kenma snorted, shaking his head. “That’s normal, Yn.”

“No, no, no.” She scooted closer, eyes alight with conspiracy as she went full lecture mode. “Kenma, it’s the classic ‘grumpy pretends they don’t care but totally does’ dynamic. You know, the grumpy one does something nice, the soft one gets all flustered, grumpy brushes it off like it’s no big deal. But then it keeps happening, over and over, until grumpy finally snaps and is like—” She dropped her voice to a dramatic growl. “‘Why do you make me feel things?!’”

Then she flung her hands up for emphasis. “And boom—accidental love confession, the soft one melts, they kiss, and then they finally fu—”

“PG-13, Yn.”

She waved him off. “Right, right. My point is, it’s only a matter of time.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, watching as she practically glowed, completely lost in her own world. “You’re so delusional.”

Yn grinned, completely undeterred. “Oh, Kenma. My sweet, naïve, blind-to-true-love Kenma.” She patted his hand like a disappointed parent. “You just don’t have the vision. The ability to see the tension, the build-up, the inevitable.”

He stared at her, unimpressed. “Yeah, crazy how I missed the deep romance in ‘shut up, Lev.’”

Yn grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. “IT’S CALLED SUBTEXT!”

Kenma lets out a quiet chuckle, letting her have her moment. Arguing was pointless. She was too far gone. And, really, he didn’t mind.

She recovered quickly, but the moment her eyes flickered toward him with that mischievous glint, Kenma already knew what was coming.

“And what about you and Kuroo?” she asked, grinning.

Kenma side-eyed her. "What about us?"

She clasped her hands together, forming a finger gun before pointing it at him. “Did he ruffle your hair today? Call you cute? Maybe stare at you for too long?”

Kenma sighed. “I lost rock-paper-scissors and he took the last vanilla ice cream at the convenience store.”

Yn gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “The betrayal.”

Kenma nodded solemnly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. It had become an ongoing joke that yn shipped him with Kuroo. Worse, Kuroo was entirely on board with it, feeding her delusions at every opportunity just to mess with him.

“I told him we were over,” Kenma said, indulging her.

She crossed her arms and nodded, looking thoroughly pleased. “Childhood best friends turned bitter exes.”

Kenma huffed out a laugh, shaking his head before reaching up to pinch her cheek. “I can’t believe I’m dating you.”

Yn beamed, her voice dripping with affection. “You love it.”

And, yeah. He did.

Kenma wasn’t sure when it had happened. When her chaos had become something he craved rather than tolerated. When her dramatics had turned from amusing to endearing. When the idea of not having her around felt... unthinkable.

She made things complicated, ridiculous. But he wouldn’t change a single thing.

Before she could say anything else, Kenma turned slightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. No hesitation, no build-up. Just done.

She froze, her body going completely still. Kenma’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “You get excited over the dumbest things,” he murmured against her skin before pulling back.

When he met her gaze, her face was bright red, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“It’s cute.”

Yn let out a strangled noise before flopping forward, burying her face in his shoulder. He let her, wrapping his arms around her with ease.

“That was… so boyfriend of you,” she mumbled.

Kenma didn’t even blink. “I am your boyfriend.”

She groaned, clutching his hoodie tighter. “Stop. I can only take so much.”

Kenma let out a quiet chuckle, gaze flickering toward her. For all her dramatics, she really was cute.

For a moment, she stayed curled up against him, completely still. Then, without warning, she shifted slightly and grumbled, “I still don’t understand why Kuroo thinks he’s the top between you two. You give off way more top energy than he does.”

Kenma hummed in agreement. “Mm.”

A beat passed. Then, with zero hesitation, he added—

“I’d top you too.”

“WHAT?!”

[sapionic]

Give The Zodiac Sign What They Need

Each zodiac represents multiple things so show each zodiac the characteristics they recognize. The whole zodiac wars we see are probably because people don't truly consider what they need to exude when they are dealing with that sign. You won't always know a person's sign, but once you find out, you can incorporate the qualities they recognize.

Let's go down the list for each zodiac sign once you have attracted them and now have them in your social space in a romantic capacity.

Aries - a sign that is about doing, so be around them and have the capability of taking the initiative no matter how small. Action in general at least shows them that you have any type of interest. This includes reaching out as well, but with the plans to get up and GO. They are a sign of movement. Motto is basically WHAT CAN I GET INTO. Consider that when dealing with an Aries.

Taurus - a sign that rules a pretty active house, you need to provide them with thoughtful actions. Hospitality, but more direct and frequent. Pretty high maintenance because 2 is an energy that focuses on frequency so distance and space aren't truly what Taurus is about, nor is it about being clingy, but it is about being actively involved in thoughtful ways that stimulate the Taurus based on what they can recognize so doing things for them that matters and can be utilized more times than one. They are a practical sign so yes these could love partnerships that cater to what they need on a daily basis like lunch for work or things they need every day or multiple times a day.

Gemini - a sign that likes to talk so be able to do that. Say what is on your mind. Be open about your thoughts. Be willing to embrace your sense of humor in communication. They know how to be lighthearted in their life and their conversations so if you lack the ability to speak up then you might want to wait to deal with the Gemini until you can. They are still human, so it will help to speak about going places or doing things and when it happens, be willing to have proper social skills. At times, Gemini's can gossip/like to gossip, but if you have other interesting things to talk about, that will work. Gossiping can be a way they deal with not having anything to really talk about, but there is always something better to talk about and if you can take the lead in that way, that's a plus. They want to know they are going to enjoy your talk, company, and space with you.

Cancer - a sign connected to family and safety, you need to be a safe space for them when you are around them. Don't put them in literal danger, but definitely don't have them feeling like you don't consider them in any capacity. They like to know that you considered them before making certain decisions. Pay attention to what they tell you. If they say they don't like this or that, then don't sit up there and have those exact things in their space in any way, especially you thinking it is funny. Easy way for them to ghost you with intentions on it being final. They will likely pay attention to that, majorly. Don't play with them like they are a game because they always date with intention of it possibly lasting, but people rule themselves out.

Leo - a sign all about fluffy love, you have to provide the Leo with a good time each time. They will seek out time to spend that is filled with laughter, hugs, and kisses. They really can be a big baby so hugging them will work or showing physical signs of love. They take birthdays pretty seriously so if you know their birthday, make sure you plan something cute or extravagant, unless you get them something they have clearly shown interest in. As a lover or partner of a Leo, the best thing you can do is lift them up and boost their ego. Supporting them and showing affection is definitely part of their love language.

Virgo - a sign that is all about detail and things being presented well, you as a partner should provide value and presentation. Being groomed is something they appreciate. Being tactful is a big deal for them. You need to be tactful as a person and have tact with your communication style. Being solution oriented will pay off as well because that's what Virgo is about. Have work ethic and self-respect. Show signs of determination and not laziness or passiveness. Virgo appreciates ambition and a can-do attitude within their partner.

Libra - a sign that represents partnerships or interactions with people, you as a partner should have the capability or the mastery of connection. Being selfless and honest helps. Being good at communication is going to be very important because libras are very social/mental, especially with their partner and they want to be able to consult their partner with most things as well so you will need to be able to do this or better. They want to be able to ask your opinion and actually receive something so have the capability of having proper social skills similar to what I said about Gemini because libra rule partnerships so you will definitely need to have mastered communication by dealing with them. If you really pay attention to how Libra is the 7th sign, they don't really know how you feel or what you need or what you need to say which is why they are looking directly to you so that you can say it and express yourself. They are not going to guess and they are not a sign that represents that anyway so be able to communicate openly because they will appreciate that they can have genuine conversations with their partner that can even equal to a solution. Don't give them a reason to not seek out their connection with you when they want to talk because if other people get involved, that may not really be ideal for the relationship and that is not what the Libra want to have to do anyway. It will help that you are intellectual because those qualities will be something that the Libra appreciates when it comes down to communicating and possibly reaching whatever solution needs to be reached.

Scorpio - A sign that is connected to being so deep, as a partner of a Scorpio, you have to be a person that appreciates getting deep as well. They want to do it all and they want to know it all and you have to match their energy. Surface level is not going to be exactly what they need to feel like they are thriving with their partner. Scorpio is also a sign that is connected to.. you know.. sharing, and I noticed that people with strong Scorpio placements gain a lot from other people so it makes sense that Libra is the sign right before them because in derivative astrology, it is literally the 2nd house of Libra so Libra rules partnerships and Scorpio rules pretty much the money aspect when you really look at it so the more Scorpio placements someone has, the more they receive from other people and I can vouch for this because my uncle is a good example. Is a Scorpio stellium and all of his partners are always giving to him. He know that he don't have to wait or worry and they usually have major connections or money and resources to give. Married a rich wife and the extra partners he deals with give openly and frequently. Even if someone is a Scorpio and they don't act like a Scorpio, they still require that their partner is kind of selfless in a way because even though Scorpio is the 8th sign and rules the 8th house, they are still a person that appreciates selflessness and 8 is kind of closer to a more extroverted type of energy anyway. They appreciate partners who Provide and show signs of loyalty in different ways. Scorpios are basically meant to depend on people in a way and people that have multiple Scorpio placements end up having it easy because the sign is the energy so it's like almost guaranteed that a person with multiple Scorpio placements can gain from other people even if those other people are organizations instead of people that they are privately connected with. Just like people with 8th house placements make good salesman which is about gaining money from other people but in a more professional setting and there is a professional purpose behind it.

Sagittarius - Sagittarius is a sign that is connected to travel so if you want to date a Sagittarius then you have to be willing to initiate experiences and travel and things like that so it's kind of similar to what I said about Aries but it's On a higher level though because Sagittarius is a sign that is connected to a lot of movement as much as possible so you really have to bring them experience and not boredom. Once you find out that someone is a Sagittarius then you need to be ready to have places to go and things for you guys to do, basically a mission. So whatever sign that you are dealing with is going to take you out of your comfort zone if you are not that zodiac sign already and that will bring about a beautiful mission if you look at it from that standpoint because most people try to date different zodiac signs but they're not doing anything that is accustomed to that zodiac signs archetype and they wonder why it end up not working out. You can't date a Sagittarius but you don't want to go anywhere or you don't want to do anything and expect them to forever want to be attached to you because you're not giving them anything to remember. They need things to remember.

Capricorn - A sign that is about status and work so as a partner of a Capricorn, you need to be someone that is already established most times and that is why you see a lot of Capricorn placements dating people that are already established whether it is age or it is business. It makes a lot of sense when you pay attention to what Capricorn truly represents and how they are the 10th zodiac sign so from the Capricorn standpoint, they are looking for and desiring people places and things that are established which is why they appreciate luxury because that shows that something has been established. So yes you need to be established or you need to basically have some things that you are achieving, especially actively, if you really do have things going on. If you don't have things going on, they might feel like you can't really add to what they are trying to build and experience in life so if you feel like things don't work with a Capricorn, it is because maybe there is something that they truly appreciate that you don't have yet or you simply don't have it at all. They also like when people are established within themselves such as being sophisticated so it's a little more above the whole confidence thing.

Aquarius - A sign that is connected to everything unorthodox, as a partner of an Aquarius, you have to be someone that's willing to kill the status quo and are actively killing the status quo which is why they could be attracted to people that have quirky ways of dressing or anything that shows that you are not worried about what the next person have to say. This can even show up in ways where they deal with people who a lot of people have even talked about bad or something like that because it's still in a way killing the status quo. If you want to thrive with an Aquarius, you have to embrace being unique and weird in any kind of way it truly connects. And similar to Sagittarius, adventure is a big deal as well so definitely be willing to do things that are mission oriented or just go to fun interesting places basically. Because even though Sagittarius represents basically having adventures, Aquarius is willing to have adventures that people are scared to partake in. And also we know that Aquarius represents freedom so people that are free within themselves and it shows in their personality, Aquarius will be very interested in connecting with these people so that's why you would probably see Aquarius around people that have some ounce of carefree energy about them.

Pisces - A sign that represents all things creative and loving plus even a little delusional sometimes, as a partner of a Pisces, you have to provide them with an experience and moments where they can forget about life in a way, like, make sure you can provide them with experiences that make them forget about the stress of work or the stress of certain connections in their life or the stress of family or any type of stress that they are dealing with. Provide them with times they can't forget and times that make them feel basically intoxicated which is why some Pisces can literally be intoxicated but sometimes a Pisces could also be intoxicated by other activities such as partying or even sexual activities because it allows them to basically remove themselves from any type of stress so in one way shape or form, they're going to be addicted to something because that is what they represent but it's even better when they allow themselves to become addicted to things that's healthy so instead of them getting addicted to anything sexual. them getting addicted to the gym is better and healthier of course based on how they handle that. Of course too much of anything isn't really "good", but you get what I am saying.

I'm not sure if people really took the time to do this but if you see this post then you should feel empowered to date any zodiac sign to test out this theory because some people were only dating according to how they know how to date and they will not change up their ways so now that I made this post, a lot of you are going to be able to test it out especially if you notice that you come across potential love interests often .

[veinsfullofstars]

For marxolor!

💝

💓

👀

🥄

Oh, wow… a whole batch of ‘em! Really giving me a run for my money, Anon, haha! (Maybe I should’ve put a cap on how many can be submitted at once… ^^’ ) Don’t worry about it, though, I think I can manage this one. Let’s see…

6. 💝 What is each person’s love language (words of affirmation, acts of service, giving gifts, quality time, and physical touch)?

18. 💓 How did they tell their friends that they were together/do their friends know or is their relationship a secret?

I haven’t really talked about how Marx and Magolor meet in the CFAU yet... mostly because it’s, like, a Whole Thing™. A story I was working on well before the CFAU was even conceptualized and practically a sub-AU in and of itself. It’s also… very work-in-progress and very not finished yet (kinda fell on the back burner once the other AUs took precedent, oops ^^’ ). Just know that the boys get the slow-burn treatment something fierce. Seriously, they don’t even get to the QPR stage until some time after Mags returns from purgatory, and even then only after some lingering baggage is dealt with…

Anyway, to make a long and incredibly complicated story short, they figure it out eventually (idiots-in-not-quite-love style), keeping it a poorly-guarded secret when they inevitably end up back on Popstar. Then - after a bunch of [REDACTED] happens, a crisis is narrowly averted, and things get sappy and cathartic - Marx just kind of… blurts it out, completely unbothered, tired of all the hiding and running and keeping secrets (at least for today). It leaves the Dream Land 4 in varying shades of surprised (or not surprised) and Magolor in a single shade of mortified… though not for too long. After all, it’s not like it’s the worst secret to even come out about him, and certainly not one he should be ashamed of.

When they have a moment to talk about it later, it might go something like this:

Mags: I can’t believe you did that. In front of everyone. Without even asking me first. Marx: Heh, sorry. Got caught up in the moment. I mean, you try keepin’ a secret like that after almost dyin’, hehe… Um. You’re not… actually mad about it, are you? Mags: … *sigh* No. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Heh, honestly? It’s… kind of a relief.

9. 👀 What do other characters think of their relationship? Do they approve or disapprove?

To tie in with the previous question, how about some more ✨ non-canon interviews ✨? (Fair warning - this is happening after the end of a story I haven’t told or finished yet, so these answers are probably gonna be vague as hell and very out-of-context.)

Bonus interviews with some folks who find out much later:

22. 🥄 When they’re cuddling together who’s the big spoon and who’s the little spoon?

Marx has more of the “big-spoon energy” between them (though good luck getting Magolor to admit that), but trying to cuddle with his wings is… not ideal, as the raw magic that perpetually leaks from them is enough to overwhelm Magolor’s finely-tuned senses (like staring into a spotlight from inches away or walking into a very saturated perfume department). Besides, Magolor is the one with hands around here, so the role of big spoon tends to default to him anyway. Marx doesn’t mind so much, trusting the wizard enough to feel comfortable (even safe) curled up against him. Magolor - who’s still recovering from a life of being a socially-distant, touch-starved hermit - is always a little worried he’s doing it wrong but gets better about it with time, which is nice.

Sketch started 03/13/25, finished 03/18/25. | Kirby Ship Ask Game (made by @/sweetandglovelyart) | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

[sashiavi]

Idk if you’ve discussed this hybrid yet but!!! Imagine Harvest mouse farmer 🥺🫶 ( both bc harvest mice are adorable and the joke is too on the nose not to use… harvest… farmer… teehee )

Sweet lil thing, a wee bit skittish, but surprisingly efficient for the small stature

And imagine the possibilities with larger/ predatorial species hybrids among the town 👀🫡🤭

( this is only a lil biased bc i love to hc my farmer as a cute lil mouse hybrid teehee)

I WANT TO BE A CUTE LIL MOUSE SO BAD YOU HAVE NO IDEA-

Not quite smut but lots of teasing and touches of dubious consent

The Mouse!Hybrid Farmer~ You're just a skittish thing, big ears twitching in a constant manner, hearing, listening, a habitual quirk. So quiet, petite in presence, like the saying goes, easily jostling Pierre at the counter of the store or casing a yelp to chirp from Sam who'd gotten lost in his own world.

Ahh but you're so sweet; Gifting out bouquets of flowers to those around - A Harvest mouse and flowers, it simply made sense for you to grow an abundance of your own - Yoba.. If only you'd known the traditions of the Valley a little sooner...

It's easy to become a target for the more.. Predatorial species that lived in the town.

Teases and bullying words thrown at you from Cat!Sebastian or Haley, playful threats to watch out.. You know a cat loves to chase.

The rake of Haley's nails sends a shiver down your spine - Practically claws, though pretty and manicured, the way she strokes her fingers over your big, rounded ears in a teasing pet has bells ringing in your head. Her body language; the tilt of her head, keen twitch on her lip, the soft pur that ripples up her throat screamed 'danger' - And yet your meek-willed self couldn't help but freeze under her.

You could have expected Sebastian to play some sort of mean trick on you - Brushing against your body as you fumbled with a pool cue, lengthy fingers encapsulating your hands to guide you to victory. Purrs rumble from his throat, head bumping a nuzzle while his hips give a soft grind. God- He was practically scenting you, greedily marking up his newfound territory, playing with his food.

Gosh.. Don't even start on the others-

Puppies are excitable. They get right into your space, sniffing and nosing with curiosity, licking all slobbery when they're all too happy, making a fool out of you and themselves.

Puppy!Sam wasn't an exception - The wag of his tail was a red flag because all too soon you had an eager retriever right in your personal space, quite literally barreling into you. Instincts fire on both sides; Wincing a freeze, wanting to shrink yourself into nothing while the pup huffed a rush of sniffs, practically salivating for Yoba-Knows whatever reason. Puppies were dense, such a position completely compromising, downward dog over your fallen self, practically pinning you to the ground!

Or the chocolate-lab incarnate of Alex- Playing with you all too rough, practically tossing you around with an easy knock to your body. It was as if he was playing fetch with himself, chasing after you on the beach, taking you down into the sand with a bounding snatch, tail wagging up a storm behind him. It felt like you were his personal little chew-toy; all squeaky and chirpy,

Ohhh but nothing compares to the big and scary Bear.

Yoba, you were sure you'd fit right in the palm of his paw of a hand. Simply standing near him had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, nervousness showing in the stressed flick of your tail and the careful twitch of your ears. How did you get here?? Sat on Bear!Shane's lap, his thick arms encircled your body, easily trapping you down, as if you were some stuffed teddy toy while he snored away in a beer induced nap. You can only squeak pitiful peeps, no amount of squirming freeing you as if you were stuck in a sticky glue-trap.

Yeah.. I want this lmaoo

[rafes-slut]

HI OMG I love your writing!! I was requesting maybe like Barry and Rafe are outside talking and reader flashes Rafe without Barry seeing bc she is sexually frustrated!! 💕💕

Risky Business

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You

Warnings: Sexual tension, public teasing, flashing, sexual frustration, language, light dominance, smutty content, exhibitionism elements, suggestive touching, heavy makeout, Rafe being a frustrated menace, Barry being oblivious, reader is a tease, Rafe is possessive.

You were beyond sexually frustrated, and it was starting to show.

All day, Rafe had been driving you insane—sitting close, letting his hands linger a little too long on your thigh, whispering low and dirty things in your ear when Barry wasn’t paying attention. And the worst part? He hadn’t done anything about it. Not a single thing. No stolen moments in a back room, no quick grab and pull into a dark corner. Just teasing… all. damn. day.

You were starting to think he was doing it on purpose.

Barry had invited you both over to his place for beers and a chill night, and you’d gone along with it, thinking it’d be harmless. But the second you stepped in and saw Rafe in that white t-shirt and chain around his neck, looking at you with that smirk that promised nothing but trouble, your body betrayed you. You were soaked, needy, desperate for his hands. But he just sat back, all cocky and calm like he wasn’t the one who’d been whispering filthy promises into your ear all week.

The worst part? You couldn’t call him out on it without giving yourself away. Barry didn’t need to know the kind of things that went on between you and Rafe.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just pure desperation, but at some point, your patience snapped. Rafe had been sitting across from you on the worn couch, one arm draped lazily across the back, fingers drumming against the fabric, watching you with those heavy-lidded blue eyes like he knew how close you were to breaking.

Barry was halfway through a story about some guy who tried to stiff him on a deal, too deep into his rant to notice the storm brewing between you and Rafe.

You bit your lip, locking eyes with Rafe.

He raised an eyebrow like, what now, princess?

You shifted slightly in your seat, heart racing, and waited until Barry turned to grab another beer from the cooler beside him. In a split second—before you could even second guess it—you reached down, grabbed the hem of your shirt, and tugged it up just enough to flash Rafe your bare chest.

No bra. Just skin, soft and teasing, right there for him to see.

His reaction was instant. His jaw clenched, fingers gripping the couch so hard his knuckles whitened, and his eyes darkened with pure, unfiltered lust. He looked like he could rip the room apart.

You pulled your shirt back down with a grin, as if nothing happened, and took a slow sip of your drink, relishing in the way Rafe’s eyes followed your every move like a predator watching his prey.

Barry didn’t notice a damn thing. Oblivious, as usual.

Rafe, however, was losing his mind.

He shifted in his seat, legs spreading slightly, adjusting himself beneath his jeans. His breathing was heavier, his eyes still locked on you like you’d personally offended him by teasing him like that in front of someone. And the best part? He couldn’t do a thing about it. Not here. Not with Barry around.

You shot him a look, smug and challenging. Do something, your eyes taunted.

Rafe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and licked his lips slowly, purposefully.

“You think that was funny?” he mouthed silently.

You grinned, giving a tiny shrug, pretending to focus on Barry’s story again, but the heat in your core was unbearable now. You needed him. You were practically throbbing in your seat, and Rafe looked like he was on the verge of snapping.

When Barry finally stood up to use the bathroom, Rafe moved.

Quick. Quiet.

He was on you in seconds, towering over you where you sat, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

“You think I won’t take you right here?” he hissed, voice low and full of warning.

Your heart pounded as you smirked, leaning into his grip.

“You can’t,” you whispered. “Barry’s right there.”

His grip tightened, thumb brushing your lower lip.

“You’re playin’ with fire, baby,” he muttered. “And when I get you alone—”

You didn’t let him finish. You surged forward, pressing a kiss to his jaw, lingering just long enough to hear him curse under his breath.

Barry’s footsteps echoed down the hall, and Rafe pulled back, just enough to hide the storm in his eyes, but you felt it—the tension, the lust, the promise.

[scatorcciox]

— SOFT!LOTTIE HEADCANNONS

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — pairings : lottie matthews , gn!reader

warnings : fluff , brief mention of aftercare

a/n : not proofread !! also my first post AH please bare w/ me

(post crash young adult-ish au)

- is a terrible cook but insists on serving you breakfast in bed (you don’t have the heart to tell her)

- genuinely the gentlest girl on earth

- hates taking her meds and gets anxious over the thought of it changing her brain chemistry. the only way she’ll take them is if you reassure her

- LOVES burning incense. she has a ton of cutsie little incense holders and gets totally excited about asking you to pick between them

- likes 60’s folk and is super hyper-fixated on the joan baez & bob dylan lore

- also really likes the coctaeu twins and thinks that there is a secret message hidden in every one of the their songs (she loves trying to decipher the lyrcis)

- will sometimes have panic attacks over her time in the wilderness but luckily she has you to help ground her !!

- definitely an anxious girly :,( my shayla

- collects trinkets and has a vintage treasure box she stores them in

- crystals are scattered on random surfaces of her home and you tease her abt it being soooo hippie

- smokes occasionally but for psychedelic purposes only

- physical media queen (modern times)

- has a deck of tarot that she rarely ever uses but somehow still knows how to use it and the meanings of each card

- will bask in the sun just for fun like a cat

- despite her parents being rich she insists on wanting to live a humble life somewhere cozy with you and your adoptive animals

- loves coquette-ish bows

- her favorite colors are baby blue and other pastels (purples and heliotropes included)

- her love languages are physical touch and quality time

- craves innocent touches and just being near you honestly.

- she’ll do things like touch her finger to yours at random or tug on your sleeve absentmindedly

- is an absolute fein for skin-to-skin (as aftercare or even just while cuddling)

- likes both little spoon and big spoon but prefers big because she likes having something to hold

- spoils you like crazy

- you try to spoil her but then end up buying her something with her money instead cuz yk.. that trust fund be coming in clutch

- extremely tactile and wants to feel aaaaaaall the textures

- she has such a whimsical way about her

- was super shy when first meeting you but once you guys got comfortable you realized how much of a weirdo she is and you love it

- loves smelling books for some reason???

- you dont question it

- looks at you with the purest eyes that practically BURST with adoration

- bonus points for her sad boba eyes

- still super intuitive and in tune with her spirituality even though she’s on meds. it’s just a lot more tame and less scary lmao

- loves rainy days

- rom-coms w/ you are her favs (especially the older black and white ones)

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: March 19

2019

A Very Unfortunate Turn of Phrase [david/patrick, M, 648] by bigficenergy

Patrick is willing to let David win an argument, but at the cost of winding him up about something else.

Meet the Parents [david/patrick, M, 17,570] by @kelbottumbles @stargatewars

David has arranged for Patrick's parents to come to town for Patrick's surprise party. The only problem is that Patrick hasn't come out to them yet. Basically our imagining of what will happen in S05E11 'Meet the Parents'.

2020

Don't We Always Find a Way to Carry On [david & alexis, T, 4,958] by @doublel27

Johnny dropped the suit jacket and stood up, wiping his hands on his slacks. He wouldn’t look David in the eye. “Well, uhhh, you should know that she and Artie—” Dear God! David pursed his lips, sucking them between his teeth. He dipped a little, hands moving in tandem with his body. “We all know it’s not really about Artie.” A gurgle followed by a hiss signaled the water in the shower starting while David and his father stared at each other. Within a few seconds, his father started fidgeting, arranging his suit and glancing to the door. “I have some things—” David closed his eyes and threw his head back. This was how things went. Alexis was his job; she had been since the day they’d put her crib in the nursery with him. David opened his eyes, lips working overtime as he nodded, refusing to look at his father. “Yeah. Yup. Mmmhmm.” or Whenever Alexis falls apart, David is there to pick up the pieces. When things are really bad, though, he lets her wear his clothes.

keep my spirit strong, you do [david/patrick, T, 5,925, CW: eating disorders]

David has a very small, on-and-off problem. Or he used to. Patrick tries to make the burden a little lighter.

Privacy [david/patrick, G, 7,503/art] by another_Hero

artist!David gets back into old practices, joins an art community, and opens up a little

2021

Ghana [gen, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Honeymoon, what honeymoon?! [david/patrick, G, 1,024] by Rosey_Peach

However, things had taken a would-be-funny-if-you-weren’t-David-Rose turn of events when Patrick awoke early the day after saying goodbye to his in-laws and had a sudden and horrible thought… were they even legally married?!

Language of Love: Part 4 (Season 5) [david/patrick, NR, 404,785] by PandorasDaydream

This series (Part 4) starts before 5.01 and will meander through season 5.++++Chapter 1 starts not long after the ending of LOL: Part 3 Chapter 8. David and Patrick spend time together, working together, and navigating their relationship.

2022

[podfic] You Can Still Be Free [david/patrick, E, podfic, CW: rape/non-con, suicidal ideation] by HowOldAreWe

There were certainly prescient hints about David’s obligation to follow all commands given to him. For one, his own irritability over wanting to say no sometimes but seemingly being unable to do so. A modern-day AU in which David is cursed to follow any command he’s given, and the stark, rippling consequences of such a burden. Inspired by Ella Enchanted.

leave it all behind, and there is happiness [david/patrick, G, 1,057] by patrickbrewer

It hurts like absolute hell, knowing that she has spent at least a decade loving someone who could never love her back. Knowing that she has spent long, drunken nights alone in her apartment wondering when the hell everything would fall back into place. Knowing that she is going to have to travel home alone and come to terms with the fact that the future she thought she had all figured out is actually never going to come to fruition.

Lines [david/patrick, NR, 414] by @tyfinn

Patrick and David are in line to meet Patrick's baseball hero. David has a realization about his mother.

Wake Me Up Inside (Save Me) [david/patrick, E, 4,637] by px_papercrown

It's not often but sometimes, on special, random, not quite out-of-the-blue days, David will wake his husband in his husband's favorite way.

2023

Fall On Me, With All Your Light [david/patrick, M, 46,877] by @statueinthestonetoo

Patrick and Rachel are a married Hutterite couple who are unable to have a baby. Patrick isn’t really sure he wants one but he loves her and he cares about what she wants, so he makes a call. Then David Rose shows up at his house and everything changes. Or a story about finding love where you least expect it.

Wash Away My Sorrow [david/patrick, M, 100] by @legalgal421

It’s raining. There’s some feelings.

we should totally just STAB CAESAR! [david & twyla, G, 1,100] by @sarahlevys

"Welcome in!" Twyla waves to them both, then gestures to the chalkboard. "And a very happy Ides to you both!" She pauses, thinking, then says, "Or are the Ides of March about being sad?" Patrick's lips are twitching. David, though, is fixated on the chalkboard. "Since when do you have an Ides special?" "Since today!" OR: After Twyla learns that David loves the Ides of March, she organizes a little surprise for him with Patrick's help.

2024

Mr. Brewer, Mr. Rose [david & stevie, T, 57,893] by @colourcodedbinders

When the bell rings at exactly 8:15 am, just as it does every single day, just as it has every single one for the past three years David’s spent at this job, he can’t help but wonder how, of all the places in the world, he ended up teaching at Schitt’s Creek high school. It’s not that this is the worst job he could’ve had — quite honestly, all things considered, it’s a pretty good gig.The school is at a humble ten minute drive from his apartment, the staff is small enough that he can usually comfortably pick his courses, and David will admit, if absolutely hardpressed about it, that maybe, maybe he finds a modicum of self-satisfaction in being a tenured resident of the Schitt’s Creek High English Department. But still — 8-fucking-15 am. OR David Rose is a high school teacher. A new substitute shows up one day, and it absolutely doesn't ruffle any of his feathers at all. Not even a little. Because he's a seasoned professional.

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017 or 2018 2019: 2 fics/18,218 words 2020: 3 fanworks (2 fics, 1 fic/fanart combo)/17,756 words 2021: 3 fics/406,114 words 2022: 4 fanworks (3 fics, 1 podfic)/6,191 words 2023: 3 fics/48,077 words 2024: 1 fic/57,893 words Total: 16 fanworks (14 fics, 1 fic/art combo, 1 podfic)/554,249 words

[rookinthecrownest]

OC: Madeleina Mercar

General:

Name: Madeleina Mercar (Neé Phaedra Arcturion)

Alias: Rook

Gender: Female

Age: 26

Spoken Language: Common, Tevene, a little Antivan

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Revolutionary I guess?

Favorite:

Color: Purple!

Entertainment: Live music

Pastime: She loves to read, you can always catch her with her nose in a book

Food: Dolmades with Tzatziki

Drink: Black tea

Have They…

Passed University: Technically, yes. If you consider the Minrathous Circle a University.

Had Sex: Nope, not before Lucanis

Had Sex in Public: AAAAbsolutely not

Gotten Tattoos: She doesn't actually. I think post-game she might get a tattoo of two crows to represent Lucanis and Spite

Gotten Piercings: Nope!

Gotten Scarred: Yes, after the battle with Elgarnan, she ends up with a large scar down her right eye and on her left shoulder, as well as her back.

Had a Broken Heart: No, I don't think so.

Are They…

A cuddler: ABSOLUTELY. Cuddling is like, her favourite activity to do with Luc.

Scared Easily: No, she's more sensitive than she is scared. She takes things very personally.

Jealous Easily: I wouldn't say so.

Trustworthy: Yeah! If you have Rook's word, you can guarantee she'll come through.

Family

Sibling(s): She has two adopted brothers. TBH i forget their names. LOL. She has no bio siblings.

Parents: She remembers both of her parents. Her father was a bard and her mother was a baker. She keeps her hair long to remember her mother (her mom always used to do her hair and let Madeleina practice on her as well). She keeps her father's journal full of his bedtime stories from across Thedas, when he travelled around.

Children: They have two kids, a daughter (Francesca) and a son (Rafael). Francesca is a mage who ends up training in the Necropolis under Myrna and Vorgoth. Rafael I think would either end up with the Veil Jumpers or Lords of Fortune.

Pets: They have one rescue cat from the streets of Treviso (His name is Teodoro)

no pressure tagging @thewardenisonthecase @introvertedfangrl @hightowerqueen @corvus-frugilegus @rookamell

[v3n1ce-bxtch]

🔪006 masterlist

CW: Mentions of Arranged Marriage, guns,anxiety

Your father had always been the type to manage your life as if it were a series of delicate chess moves, positioning you for success, for status. So when he arranged yet another date with a man who fit the mold of the perfect match—Louis Vandercamp the Fourth—it was no surprise. The only reason why he’d been doing this was because you brought no potential suitors home with you ever.

Louis was the kind of man your father loved to associate with: strong ties to British nobility, old money, artistic inclinations that aligned with your own passion for creating. He was poetic in his language, elegant in his demeanor, but there was a thin veil of arrogance that screamed privilege and entitlement. The kind of man who believed that everything about his life was perfectly aligned with fate—fate being, of course, his ability to claim someone like you as his own.

You didn’t want any part of it.

You weren’t here for the social games. You weren’t interested in fitting yourself into a mold that someone else had made for you. You just wanted to create, to sell your art, to live on your own terms. You weren’t looking for a man to sweep you off your feet, to force you into some arranged marriage with all the trappings of money and prestige. That wasn’t you.

But even if you had been interested in someone like Louis Vandercamp, there was still Rafe—the looming presence that made even the thought of another man feel like a betrayal. It wasn’t just the obsessive staring, the lurking, the sickeningly sweet way he would sometimes approach you—it was the threat he posed. You knew, deep down, that Rafe would probably fucking kill you before you could even entertain the idea of love and babies.

He was dangerous. He was a hunter. And you were his prey.

With a long sigh, you dragged your sister Lena along for a much-needed shopping trip. You had to get out of your head, even if it meant spending hours walking through overpriced stores, picking out things for a new apartment you hadn’t even decided on yet. You weren’t really in the mood for it, but Lena insisted.

Of course, Rafe followed you.

You could feel his eyes on you as you browsed through furniture, picking up items you didn’t even care about. The weight of his gaze was like a heavy chain around your neck, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, you knew he was there. Watching. Always.

Lena noticed it too. She’d been hearing the stories about James, about how you fought him off, and now Louis Vandercamp. She’d had enough.

After a few hours of wandering aimlessly, she turned to you, her face set in a determined scowl.

“You’re getting a gun.”

You blinked, confused for a moment, before her words hit home.

“A gun?” you asked, uncertain whether she was serious.

“I’m not letting you live like this anymore,” Lena said, her voice firm. “You don’t need to wait for someone to protect you. You’re getting something to protect yourself. And I’m coming with you.”

You let her drag you to the gun store.

And when you saw the pink pistol on the shelf, your heart skipped a beat. It was ridiculous. It was cute in a way, but it was also practical. It was something that could be yours, something that could give you a semblance of control over your life, your body, your safety.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked as Lena picked up the gun, her face set with resolve.

“I’m sure,” she said, her eyes bright with determination. “No more letting people control you. No more letting them walk all over you.”

You nodded.

⸻

The two of you sat down for lunch afterward, and that’s when the conversation turned serious.

“Tell me everything,” Lena said, her voice softer now as she reached for your hand.

You sighed, taking a deep breath. The weight of the past few days was suffocating. The memories of James, the fear of Louis, the ever-looming presence of Rafe—it was all starting to pile on top of you. You needed to get it off your chest.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened with James,” you started. “And I think… I think it’s all connected. The injuries, the way he was hurt so badly. He had to have been involved in all of it—David, James, and Rafe. I’m not sure how, but I know… something isn’t right.”

Lena’s expression darkened as she listened. “You really think Rafe has something to do with it?”

You hesitated, guilt settling in your stomach. You wanted to tell her. You wanted to explain everything. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud.

“I don’t know, Lena. I really don’t know,” you admitted. “But… I’m scared. And I don’t know what to do about him. About Rafe.”

Lena let out a frustrated sigh, her hand gripping yours tightly. “I think that creep is one step away from going full-on Zodiac killer or something. It’s fucking sick, Y/n. I don’t know what his deal is, but I don’t trust him. No one does. He’s a goddamn psycho, and I’m afraid for you. You’ve got to take control of this.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at how Lena managed to put it all into perspective. You hated it, but at the same time, you were grateful. She had this way of making everything seem less threatening, less dangerous. She could make anyone you hated a distant thought.

But the truth was, Rafe wasn’t going anywhere.

⸻

When you got back home later that evening, you found a note waiting for you.

It was written in an intricate, almost poetic script—Rafe’s unmistakable handwriting.

You opened it slowly, already feeling a chill creep down your spine.

My sweet girl,

I know you think you’re running from me, but you can’t hide forever. I see you. I always see you. And I care for you more than anyone could ever understand. Your family is safe. You’re safe. I’ll make sure of it. The only problem is that sister of yours, Lena. She needs to learn to keep her mouth shut. She’s speaking out of turn, and I can’t allow that to go unnoticed, she’s testing me.

As for me? I’m not a killer, darling. I’m more refined than that. I don’t have a ‘thing’ for young women, and I certainly don’t kill them. But your family, and you, will never be harmed as long as I’m watching. Trust me.

My nightly blood lust has overflowed into my days, I’m lethal, on the verge of frenzy.

You’ll come to understand in time. You’ll see that I’m better than you think.

Rafe

⸻

You stared at the note, feeling a mix of dread and disbelief.

He was watching.

He always was.

Taglist: @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @memoirofasparklemuff1n @rafesbabygirlx @susanhill @slut4you @moneybaby07 @iluvblue-blog1

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Thirty Three: The Miracle, or Ten Words and a Thousand Kisses

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence, smut, implied abuse MINORS DNI. A/N: Well, this is it, bbs. The final chapter of Cleo and Bucky's story ❤️ CW for some bonus smut Chapter one of my next work should be coming next week, but it's going to have a slower (read: more reasonable for me) posting schedule. Expect one a week or so, but I'll try to be consistent. I'll be posting a sneak peek here in a few days, though ❤️

Summary: Cleo and Bucky have one final mission.

Chapter Directory

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Bucky nods, glancing nervously between me and Steve. “Positive. I can’t have this hangin’ over my head for the rest of my life.”

Steve nods decisively. “Alright, then, if you’re sure.” He glances at me nervously, but I give him a reassuring smile. I know in my bones that everything is going to be fine, but I understand why Bucky’s being cautious, just in case.

I press my hand to the glass. “Whatever happens, James, I love you.”

He presses his own against the other side of the glass, mirroring me from within the padded room Tony built to contain my screaming practices all those months ago. “I love you, too.”

Steve takes a deep breath.

“Longing.” 

Bucky winces, but it seems more pavlovian than a genuine reaction to pain. He gestures for Steve to continue.

******

I groan frustratedly, flipping onto my side. For the first night since Bucky and I started taking turns at each other’s apartments, I’m having an insomniac moment.

“Cleo, what’s wrong?” he mumbles, face still soft from sleep. 

I sit up. “Does… does it ever get easier?” I ask, voice small and wobbly. “Knowing that… you took someone’s life?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky sighs, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. “How long has this been bothering you?”

“Since the moment I had you back,” I say, frowning. “When I agreed to join the team, I never thought I’d… I didn’t realize I had that in me, you know? Now I’m wondering if it was the wrong thing to do. I mean, they were horrible people and they were hurting you, so it isn’t like the world is going to miss them, but you know.”

He reaches up to cup my chin, stroking my cheek with a thumb. “Do you want the comforting answer or the honest answer?”

I look at him flatly. “Honest, obviously.”

“Right, should’ve guessed that,” Bucky says, heaving a sigh. “Honestly, Cleo… No. It doesn’t get easier, necessarily. But I think, over time, you start to make your peace with it. With knowing that you did what you had to do.”

I nod, wiping at my face.

“And for what it’s worth,” he continues, thumbing a tear from my cheek. “I do think you did what you had to do. There weren’t a lot of other options.”

I smile sadly at him, leaning down to kiss his nose. “Thank you. I think what I feel the worst about is that I don’t regret it - not really, not knowing that it led to this.” I take his hand and squeeze it. “But maybe you’re right, maybe I just need time.”

Bucky lays back down, yanking on our joined hands to pull me down next to him. “You’d be surprised what a little bit of time can heal,” he says softly, and I nod.

I rest my head on his chest and finally drift off to sleep, everything feeling just a little less heavy now that I’ve got someone to hold it with me.

******

“Rusted.” 

I hold my breath, but Bucky doesn’t react at all.

“Seventeen.” 

Bucky runs a nervous hand through his hair and gives me a small smile when he sees me tracking the movement.

******

Bucky, Steve, and I enter the common room after our run. I make a break for the coffee machine, patting Betty fondly as I place my usual order. When I turn, mug in hand, I catch Bucky staring at my snug athletic shorts, a delicious heat in his eyes. I take a sip, returning his burning look over the rim of my coffee mug, and he grins wickedly.

“For crying out loud, could you two at least wait for me to leave the room?” Steve says, voice pleading. 

I blush, suddenly finding my mug incredibly interesting, and Bucky scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but.

Steve sighs. “I need new running partners. You two are on your own.” I stifle a laugh as he grabs a drink from the fridge and stalks off toward our shared floor.

Bucky is around the bar the second Steve is out of sight, taking the mug from me and setting it down on the counter. “Careful, Barnes - come between me and coffee at your own peril.”

He gives me that wicked, wicked look again and heat pools instantly in my core. “On second thought,” I say, “I’ve heard that too much caffeine isn’t great for anxiety.”

Bucky grips my waist and lifts me effortlessly onto the countertop, putting me right at his height, and braces a palm on either side of me. He gives me a quick, teasing kiss before stepping back, and I whine and wrap my legs around his middle to pull him closer.

I kiss him deeply, encircling his neck with my arms, and he gives up his teasing act immediately at my touch. I sigh contentedly and he slips his tongue between my lips.

“Christ, Rogers wasn’t kidding,” Nat says, and Bucky reluctantly pulls back as I wipe my mouth self-consciously. She glares at us. “We have to eat here, you know.”

I blush and hop off the counter, and Bucky surreptitiously steps behind me to hide his reaction to our kissing. Natasha rolls her eyes, and I grimace. “Sorry, Nat. We were just, uh, talking about…”

“About each other’s lips?” she asks sarcastically. “Get out of here, you fucking degenerates. I’m about to hold another intervention.”

I blush furiously and Bucky places his hands on my shoulders, steering me quickly out of the room and toward the elevator. We don’t make it much further than that, as it turns out, pulling the emergency stop button before the elevator reaches our shared floor.

When it finally arrives and the doors open, Steve is standing in the hallway with a disappointed look in his eyes. “I’m starting to think Stark was right and we should have left you two on the damn submarine.”

I smile at him innocently as Bucky grabs my underwear from where they’d gotten stuck on the handle of the ceiling’s emergency hatch, and furtively stuffs them in his pocket. I cover my face when I realize what just happened, letting Bucky lead me into the hall. He pats Steve on the shoulder as we walk past him. “One day you’ll get a gal, Stevie, and then you’ll understand.”

Steve mutters something that sounds like ‘insufferable’ as Bucky and I make our rapid way to my apartment. 

******

“Daybreak.” 

His hands clench, and he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Furnace.” 

I see the muscles of Bucky’s jaw working, and I turn to Steve. He ignores me, focusing only on his friend.

“Nine.” 

Bucky shakes his head, and I bring my fingers to my lips when I see the lines of his face etched in worry.

******

Laying in bed, tracing circles on his bare chest, I take a deep breath. “Buck?” He hums, looking down at me adoringly. “I have a stupid question.”

“No such thing as stupid questions,” he says. “Ask me anything.”

“What…” I bite my lip. “What are we?”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “A very old supersoldier and a cosmic energy host, according to you,” he chuckles. I frown, and he clocks the expression, tipping my chin up to give me a sweet, small kiss. “Clearly that isn’t what you meant.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m asking… Ugh, I feel like a fucking teenager right now, this is so stupid. I’m asking what we are, you and me together. Like… what would you call this thing between us?”

His eyes soften in understanding. “Oh, I get it now. Cleo, that isn’t stupid - if I’d known you were worried about it, I’d have brought this up the second we stepped off that damn submarine.” I let out a little sigh of relief and smile up at him. “Sweetheart, we can be whatever you want us to be. Back in the day,” he says in a silly voice, and I can’t help but laugh, “I’d have called us ‘going steady,’ but that feels outdated and not nearly important enough to describe what you are to me.”

He kisses the tip of my nose, and I blush. “What do you want us to be?” he asks tenderly.

I turn my focus back to his chest, running my fingers through the hair growing there idly to avoid looking him in the eye. “I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve never felt this with someone before.”

Bucky makes a small noise of surprise, but when I look up at him he’s schooled his features back into a loving gaze. “Wellll,” he says, drawing the word out. “If someone asked me, I’d like to be able to at least tell them you’re my girlfriend.” He blushes adorably. “And… I’d prefer it if you weren’t going on dates with librarians, or anyone else for that matter.”

I grin at him, anxiety finally eased. “There was never a date with a librarian, Buck, because it’s been you since the moment we met.” He beams at me, and I can’t resist the urge to kiss him.

A few moments later, we break apart, breathing hard. “Monogamous girlfriend sounds good,” I say, hands trailing down his chest and lower. “But I think I’ll just call you my love.” He groans, and I can’t tell if it’s from my words or my wandering hands.

******

“Benign.” 

Bucky cries out in pain, sinking to his knees on the padded floor.

“Steve, stop,” I shout. “Stop - it’s hurting him.”

Bucky shakes his head vehemently, not opening his eyes. “No. Steve, you have to keep going. I have to do this.”

“Okay, Buck,” Steve says softly, voice full of his own pain.

“Homecoming.” 

Bucky grits his teeth, groaning through his clenched jaw. I resist the urge to cover my eyes, knowing I owe it to him to witness his pain - to hold it with him. 

“One.” 

Bucky screams sharply and waves his arm. I huff a sigh of relief, thinking he’s going to put an end to this. “Get her out of here, Steve. I don’t want her to see it if it doesn’t work.”

I blanch. “Are you crazy? I’m not leaving!”

He shakes his head. “Steve, you have to make her go.”

I place both hands on the window. “James Buchanan Barnes, you listen to me. You promised - swore - that you’d trust me to make my own choices. And right now, I’m choosing to stay here, no matter what happens, because I love you, you idiot.”

Bucky huffs a laugh through the obvious pain. “God, you’re fucking impossible. Alright, fine.” He winces. “Steve, please. Finish this.”

******

The rays of sun are hitting Bucky’s face just right when I blink my eyes open. I simply cannot help but lean over and wake him with a deep kiss. 

“Cleo?” he groans, blinking his eyes open. “What time is it?”

I pull back and look down at him with devotion. “I don’t know, like seven? We slept in.”

He grins up at me, and I become hyper-aware of the fact that I fell asleep before putting any clothes back on last night. “Well then, we may as well stay in bed a little longer.” His hand vines up my leg under the covers and I gasp when, without any ado whatsoever, he brings his fingers right to my core.

His head disappears beneath the blanket, and when his tongue makes its wicked way to my center, I find myself intensely grateful that the Tower’s apartments are sound-proofed.

“Oh my gods, James,” I moan loudly, and I can feel him grin against my skin as he plunges his tongue inside me. He brings a thumb to my clit, teasing it as he moves his tongue in devastating thrusts. I’m completely undone, head tipped back against the pillows and mouth open wide - no clue what’s coming out of my mouth except that, whatever it is, it’s loud.

I unravel so quickly under his tongue, finding my release with a cry that has my light bulbs shattering in every single lamp.

Bucky pops his head out from under the covers, hair adorably mussed and smiling smugly as he licks his lips. “We need to start buying light bulbs in bulk.”

I grin hazily and he presses a kiss against my temple, snuggling close to me as I recover. “That, or we just get rid of our lamps.”

His face grows serious as he lifts up on an elbow to look at me. “Absolutely not. Out of the question.”

I giggle and reach up to smooth the lines from his forehead. “Alright, my love, relax. We can keep the lamps.”

“Good,” he says, lifting my hand to his lips so he can kiss each one of my fingertips. “Although, I had a thought.”

“Oh no, that sounds dangerous,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes, suddenly looking quite nervous.

“What if…” he trails off, so I squeeze his hand and give him a comforting smile. “What if my lamps and your lamps were in the same apartment?”

My eyebrows furrow. “Then one of us wouldn’t have any lamps, which is apparently a problem for you.”

Bucky sighs deeply and bites his lip. “No, I’m trying to say… What if we didn’t have to go back and forth every night? What if - what if we just had one apartment. For both of us.”

My eyes go wide and, without even thinking, I pounce on him, straddling his waist and peppering kisses all down his face, neck, shoulders. He laughs, a sound of pure joy, and I sit up, looking down at him. “James, are you asking me to move in with you?”

He blushes, grinning furiously, and gives me a crooked grin. “Yeah, doll, I am.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m going to ignore that because I’m too fucking happy to be irritated with you right now.”

Bucky reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is that a yes?”

I simply kiss him again. And again, and again, and again.

******

“Freight car.”

The three of us are completely still for a beat before Bucky blinks his eyes open, staring right into my soul.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, and a sob escapes me when the voice I hear is that of my love. 

“Cleo, you’re - you’re a miracle. You did it.” I cover my mouth with trembling fingers and loose a shaky laugh, grabbing Steve’s arm with my other hand. “You really did it.”

Steve whoops, pumping a fist in the air, and makes for the door, but for once I’m faster than the supersoldier. Before he’s taken two steps, I’m in the room, tackling Bucky to the ground in a hug. 

He kisses me hard. “You really did it,” he repeats, voice no louder than a whisper. He wipes an errant tear from my face.

Steve sniffles loudly, and we both look up. He wipes at the corner of his eye. “What?” he asks at our wide-eyed expressions. “You saved my best friend with the power of love. I’m bound to be emotional about that!”

I giggle and stand, pulling Bucky up with me. I pat Steve on the shoulder. “I know, Big Guy. It’s okay.” He gives me a watery grin, and I return it. “So what now? Do we celebrate?” I ask.

Bucky shoots Steve a significant look that I don’t really understand, and Steve’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh. Um, I actually have some… stuff to do. Real important stuff, so I’m just gonna go… do that. Right now. Probably for an hour.” Bucky clears his throat, and Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Wow. I mean, actually probably for a few hours? Yeah. So. See you later.” 

He disappears through the door before I can respond, and I narrow my eyes at Bucky. “What was that about?”

Bucky shrugs, an innocent look plastered on his face. “I have no idea. Steve is a mystery even I don’t understand, sometimes.”

I roll my eyes, but I can feel my cheeks heating with a blush. “A few hours, huh? Someone’s feeling ambitious.”

Bucky smirks and takes my hand, leading me out of the room and practically running toward our apartment. “Hey, I have a new lease on life.”

“Whatever you say, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky groans, fumbling as he tries to open the door, and the second we’re inside he has me pushed up against the wall in a desperate kiss.

“So,” I say between kisses, unable to help myself. “Wanna watch Supernatural?” 

Bucky moves to kiss the sensitive spot behind my ear. “I had something else in mind - something that doesn’t involve you watching two other men.”

I laugh, voice breathy under his attention. “I don’t know,” I say, teasing. “Dean is pretty hunky.”

Bucky growls, capturing my lips in a deep kiss, and snakes his metal hand down my back to grip my ass. Hard. I moan. “What was that?” he asks, voice low.

I lift one leg to wrap it around his waist and he gets the memo, picking me up and pressing my back against the door. “Nothing,” I say against his lips. “My thing’s stupid. Let’s do your thing.”

He chuckles and backs away from the door, carrying me into our bedroom. “That’s what I thought.”

We undress quickly and lay back on the bed, but instead of giving in to a flurry of movement as per usual, I straddle his waist and lean down to place slow, delicate kisses along the gnarled skin where Bucky’s shoulder connects to his metal arm. He watches me with wide, reverent eyes, and when I meet them with my own loving gaze, the emotion I see bowls me over.

I cup his cheeks with my palms, just staring at him - at this stunning man who’s given me the startling gift of his love. “James,” I say.

He nods, tears pricking the corners of his beautiful blue eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “I know.”

I trace the lines of his face with my fingers - an entire world I’ve already mapped every inch of, yet never grow tired of exploring. 

“James,” I repeat, grazing his nose, his cheeks, his lips. “Welcome home.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Final A/N: Wow! We did it, my loves. 33 chapters, 100,000+ words, so much angst, a little smut, weird stuff with lamps, and one complete story about two idiots healing from trauma and falling in love. Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me. When I decided to try my hand at writing fanfiction for the first time since I was fourteen - *mumbles* years ago, if you can believe it - I had no idea this was what would come from it. Thank you all for all your feedback, encouragement, and kindness. I love each and every one of you ❤️

[inquisimer]

OC Meme: Marisol Cantori

Tagged by @wishforhome to do this OC meme, ty friend 💜 doing this for Marisol, and it ended up being a really good exercise in rounding out some details for her!

tags forward to: @shivunin | @rosella-writes | @crabs-with-sticks | @pickelda | @the-rebel-archivist | @effelants | @asexualtabris - blank template at the bottom (:

-

GENERAL

Name: Marisol Cantori

Alias(es): Rook, anything that suits the contract, probably some other nicknames that I haven't chosen yet bc I just love to give characters nicknames

Gender: Female

Age: (oh god I have been playing fast and loose with this so bad) somewhere in the range of 23 - 26 during DATV

Place of birth: Antiva City (alienage)

Spoken languages: fluently: Common, Antivan, Orlesian, ASL/CSL (Antivan/Crow Sign Language); not fluent, but knows a bit of Tevene and Nevarran

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Thief (formerly), Antivan Crow, Spellblade of House Cantori

FAVORITE

Color: neutral metallic - bronze, silver, rose gold

Entertainment: people-watching, thievery, competition of any sort

Pastime: leather carving (and enchanting), flirting, riddles (telling and solving)

Food: dark chocolate, oranges, soft cheeses

Drink: coffee, any lyrium-infused alcohol

Books: mystery and romance! she also enjoys reading non-fiction firsthand accounts of travel/adventuring, a holdover from being in the Circle

HAVE THEY

Passed university: Yes and no, depending on how you spin it! Marisol passes Crow training without any real issue, but she was never Harrowed

Had sex: yes

Had sex in public: (something something Antivans and hot blood and passion) more like semi-public, but yes

Gotten tattoos: yes! Marisol has a geometric/floral design on her left arm inspired by her memory of drawings from her friend in the Circle. She also has a unique Cantori tattoo on her back (either between her shoulder blades or at the small of her back, I'm still deciding, vote now on your phones)

Gotten piercings: She has multiple ear piercings and a nose piercing, but she rarely actually wears any jewelry in them.

Had a broken heart: Once, when her roommate in the Circle was made Tranquil

Been in love: at the risk of being overly poetic, Marisol is in love with her freedom and independence. On a more literal level, she is absolutely in love with Teia before DATV, and with both Teia and Viago (and Lucanis, let's be real, it's going to happen) post-DATV.

ARE THEY

A cuddler: yes!! she runs cold, and physical touch was dangerous or discouraged in the Circle, so she loves to cuddle now that she can.

Scared easily: nope!

Jealous easily: definitely not

Trustworthy: her word is only as good as whatever you've done to earn it

FAMILY

Sibling(s): one younger sibling who was a newborn when Marisol was taken to the Circle! When she goes back to the alienage, she finds her family home burned down, finds out that her parents were killed in the fire, and assumed her sibling is dead too. In truth, her sibling ends up in an alienage orphanage and eventually sold into the Crows and is a de Riva fledgling.

Parents: were laborers in the leatherworking industry, die in an alienage fire a few years after Marisol is taken to the Circle.

Children: none biologically, but she is good with kids in general! She helps train the Cantori fledglings and is often emotionally motivated by things happening to children that are outside of their control

Pets: she gets a spirit dog in the Lighthouse! a spirit of [devotion or tenacity or loyalty] (vote now on your phones) that manifests as a dog, to be specific. At first, he only manifests in the Lighthouse or parts of the Crossroads, but eventually after some emotional suffering practice, she can call him to places outside the Fade as well.

-

Blank template:

GENERAL

Name:

Alias(es):

Gender:

Age:

Place of birth:

Spoken languages:

Sexual orientation:

Occupation:

FAVOURITE

Colour:

Entertainment:

Pastime:

Food:

Drink:

Books:

HAVE THEY

Passed university:

Had sex:

Had sex in public:

Gotten tattoos:

Gotten piercings:

Had a broken heart:

Been in love:

ARE THEY

A cuddler:

Scared easily:

Jealous easily:

Trustworthy:

FAMILY

Sibling(s):

Parents:

Children:

Pets:

[basedonconjecture]

OC Tag Game

thank you to @operative-arrow, @hyperions-light, @mythals-whore for the tags!! now I get to yap about my messy menace:

Selora de Riva

GENERAL

Name: Selora de Riva Alias: Rook (from Varric), she'll accept Sel as a diminutive if you call her "Lora" instead be prepared to die; [redacted] Gender: cis woman Age: 28 Spoken Language(s): Trade, Antivan, Orlesian Sexual Orientation: bisexual Occupation: (pre-Veilguard) assassin, personal spy of Viago de Riva; (post-Veilguard) spymaster of House Dellamorte

FAVORITES

Color: She favors dark blues/indigos and red-purples, if not black, but doesn’t have a particular favorite. Entertainment: She loves watching street performers! Acrobats (for obvious reasons), jugglers, musicians, puppet shows, etc. Tournaments would also appeal, for the competitive nature of them, and she’s been known to wager on more than one duel (“friendly” or otherwise) between her fellow Crows. Pastime: Card games, puzzles, she likes to design jewelry that has a practical function (in most cases, for her, that means as weapons like garrotes disguised as necklaces or her chatelaine belt that hides some of her tools, also: poison rings)—it’s probably her own real claim to being a stylish~ Crow. Food: She’s not picky and will eat most anything put in front of her if she’s hungry enough. If left to her own devices, she’s reaching for things she can eat on the go, and is partial to fruit, particularly citrus fruit, and (of course) nuts. If she could survive on Antivan energy balls, she would. Drink: ^ She will also drink most anything, but she’s most often drinking coffee or wine. Her palate is really kind of questionable though like… Viago did instruct her on wines, but she doesn’t really use it much outside of situations where it’s helpful. If she had to state a preference for either thing, it would be dark roasted coffee and black wines. Books: After learning to read, she never really gained an appreciation for books, alas. She values them for information but she’s an impatient reader if she’s just reading for herself, and she’s definitely not reading fiction by choice. So it was really for the best she only ever made it to book club the once. But! She is nosy and will always bother Lucanis about what he’s reading, particularly if it’s… titillating. If she has to talk him to sleep, he has to give her book reports—in detail—that’s the deal.

HAVE THEY...

Passed University: The Streets ✅ Crow training ✅ Viago de Riva Finishing School for Menaces ✅ Had Sex: Yes but not...a lot...more sporadically...she was v v busy uhhh pretending to be the incompetent pet of her Talon unfortch. It took up a lot of energy. Most of her experience was when she was younger and slightly more trusting and optimistic about her capacity to be in a relationship with anyone while [waves vaguely at the weird thing she has going on w/ Viago] :') Had Sex in Public: Hard pass.

Gotten Tattoos: Selora has precisely (1) tattoo of a stylized snake (it’s very simple but has a water/river pattern banding it instead of scales) knotted around a crow feather as her own version of the De Riva house tattoo. She was never supposed to have it, however, since it could identify her as one of Viago’s or as a Crow if she was ever caught (having memorable markings, in general, would work against her in the sort of spy work she was doing/was intended to do) and sheeeeee did ittt anywayyyyy. It, um, did cause a minor rift between them for a minute. Anyhoo, it’s located on her sternum so it stays pretty well hidden most of the time. 

Gotten Piercings: She’s got a few piercings in each ear but she doesn’t always like to wear any jewelry in them, highly depends on the situation and who she might be around. 

Gotten Scarred: Aside from some tiny knicks on her hands from when she was young, she has successfully managed to avoid any severe scarring (importantly, not severe injury tho) that would, as mentioned above, make her identifiable. 

Had a Broken Heart: Romantically? No, but her heart’s been broken in other ways and there’s a few more ways I plan to break it for her soooo

Been in Love: Before Lucanis, no. That would have put a lot of things at risk annnnnnnnnd her emotional availability was practically nonexistent because of all the secrets she was keeping.

ARE THEY...

A Cuddler: Yes, but she didn’t know that until she had someone to cuddle with. We were all surprised. Scared Easily: Not in the least lol Jealous Easily: Yes and no? Mostly, no. But there are parts of her that are envious of other people, sometimes. Particularly people who have families and other Crows. She wouldn’t make different choices, she was trying to survive, but sometimes she wishes she was…in a manner of speaking, more normal?? I guess??? What’s normal for a Crow anyway??? She’s not really jealous romantically, either, but there’s def some “ah, well, I am not worthy anyway :,)” feelings she has to contend with that are deeeeeeeply rooted.

Trustworthy: N-O. Well, depends on who you are. For the most part, she’s not actively looking to double-cross everyone she meets so you’re probably fine—but she’s not particularly fussed about doing so if she needs to and you’ve got secrets she can use. The list of people she would be trustworthy for is limited.

FAMILY

Siblings: None, as far as she knows. Parents: She only has vague memories of her mother and that’s it. Children: No children as of now, whether there will be in the future… undetermined. And she’s not really thinking about it. Entirely avoiding that subject, actually. Even in her own head. Has verrrrrry complicated feelings about it. Really bold of her to give all that advice to Davrin about Assan t b q h. Pets: Eh, she was too busy taking care of Viago’s snakes when she was younger, and she’ll feed strays (as a once-stray herself, it’s like stray solidarity), but she’s uncertain about her capacity to care for something that fully relies on her alone to keep it alive. (see above.)

@complikatedd & whoever else wants to do this bc idk who all has been tagged annnnnd I'm sure it's most of you bc of how long this took me rip